Universal Gravitation
by AFincorporated
Summary: Rory is an orphan, a misfit, and a loner. And her biggest secret is her strange ability to warp gravity. But when Rory tries to stop a crime and things go wrong, Fury can't help but notice. The Avengers are sent to find "Inertia", the strange new gravity-controlling hero, whose only identifying feature is her bright gray eyes. Rated T for swearing and violence, but nothing too bad.
1. The gray-eyed girl

**AN: I don't own the Avengers (though once I've taken over the world I will). Please review/follow/favorite if you like the story.**

I walked through the alleyway, the smoggy nighttime color of the sky was visible through the line between the buildings' roofs on either side. I moved silently past the menacing figures in the doorways on either side of me, the dark shadows that could hide danger, the laughter and screams that echoed from a nightclub that had seen better days. I knew all of it was there-but I was not afraid. None of this could hurt me.

There were sirens in the street, and I silently sprinted out of the alley in time to see a black pickup truck roar past, three squad cars on its trail.

Faster then you can say _car chase_ I was running along the sidewalk, feet pounding on pavement, dodging and shoving past the people walking along. I matched the speed of the police cars easily. The pickup was heading for the highway on ramp, but I knew a shortcut. I turned down another alley and skidded to a stop. I turned my head up to the line of sky, and held up my hands.

"Are you praying?" A small voice asked from a second-floor window behind me. It was a little girl, with blond pigtails, and wearing pink flannel pajamas. "Are you an angel?"

"I'm the opposite, kid." I said, offering a smile. Then I turned my wrists just so, and floated off the ground. I twisted them again, and suddenly shot upward, turning off gravity again just before bashing my brains in on the top platform of the fire escape. I reached up and grabbed the side of the roof, pulling myself up over it easily, turning my hands again so that I landed softly on my feet. I sprinted across the rooftop easily, and leapt off the side with ease. Turning my hands in a split second, I was pulled towards the next roof and landed in a run. Another six roofs later, I was standing at the highway on ramp.

Gravity. It's one of the most powerful things in the universe, right up there with time and space. And I control it. All matter lets off the tiniest bit of gravitational pull, and I can change how powerful that pull is on me with a flick of my wrists. It enables me to fly. And when you lessen gravity, it lets you run faster then a normal person ever could.

Sixteen stories below me, I saw the black pickup roaring onto the highway. I jumped off the roof easily, turning and pressing my arms to my sides, rocketing down towards the truck. A second before I hit the street, I made the pickup truck's bed pull me, and I was pulled to the side. I shut off gravity once I was over the truck's bed, slowed myself for an instant, and returned gravity to normal. I landed softly on the truck bed.

Behind me, sirens wailed. I sword inside my head. The cameras on the dash of the squad car would be filming everything. I reached up and pulled my hood over my face, hoping the black hoodie under my army jacket would hide my face.

There was one driver in the car, armed. In the seat next to him was a backpack, presumably holding whatever he stole. I banged my fist on the back window of the cab, and the driver whipped his head around, saw me, panicked, and yanked sideways on the wheel. I leapt off the side of the truck bed and rolled when I landed, the truck flying and rolling when it hit the ground, flames and shards of glass flying outward all around it. One shard sliced through my hoodie and slashed my shoulder, another slicing my forehead.

The cop cars skidded to a stop, and I heard sirens and shouts. But I knew I had to run. And my heart was in my throat. I hadn't meant to do that, just stop the car. Was the driver alive? I sprinted to the edge of the highway and leapt off the side. But I wasn't planning on leaving. I floated by the side and watched the scene unfold.

An ambulance. The driver of the car was pulled out, and they put him on an ambulance. But from the oxygen mask attached to his nose and mouth, I could see that he was alive. Thank god.

I just walked back to the city. I was only a couple miles from where I had started, in the alley, but that was a long walk. But I wasn't in the mood for flying. I had nearly gotten that man killed. I was in full control of my powers, but I was still dangerous.

It started to rain. I shivered and rubbed my arms, the rain leaking through my hoodie and army jacket, making the blood from my forehead run in my eyes and the blood from my shoulder stained my hoodie. The rain made the colors of the lights of the city run and blur, and made all sounds muffled. My short black hair was stuck to my face, freezing drops running down my back.

When I finally got home (and I use that word in its loosest form) I was cold, wet, bleeding, exhausted, and _miserable._ The **Home for Unwanted and Orphaned Children** was only three stores, and so run down you could barely see it's name painted in black on the front door, which was sunken into the side of the building three feet and so encrusted with grime I pulled my sleeve over my hand before I turned the doorknob.

I knew that I was past curfew, so I couldn't go in through the front, so I quickly peeked around the door. Sister McDonald was seated at the desk in the small dirty room, and I shut the door again before she saw me.

I walked around to the alley at the side of the building. My room was on the third floor. On a normal night I would have flown, and loved the feeling of wind rushing past me as I was pulled to the window. But tonight I climbed the fire escape, my feet slipping on the wet metal.

I dug my fingernails under the window pane and stumbled inside, dripping on the battered floor. The one dingy lamp suddenly flicked on.

Mother Superior and Sister Primrose were standing in the doorway, wearing disapproving looks.

"Um…. hi?" I asked hopefully.

Mother Superior's scowl deepened. "What were you doing? Do you know what time it is?"

But Sister Primrose had noticed the bleeding cut on my forehead. "Are you alright?" She rushed forward and pulled me to sit down on my cot. I wasn't surprised that Demitra, the girl I shared a room with, was still loudly snoring on her own cot. She slept through everything-once I had even yelled in her ear and it hadn't woken her up. The only way was to pull her off the bed and yell about a roach. She was deathly afraid of roaches. Woke her right up. "What happened to you, Rosalind?"

"Rory," I mumbled.

"That's beside the point," Sister Primrose and Mother Superior led me down to the cramped kitchen. They cleaned this whole building top to bottom every week, but the grime was the kind that came from age-wear and tear and tiredness. Sister Primrose cleaned the cut on my forehead and shoulder while the Mother Superior lectured me on responsibility and godliness. I knew that Sister Primrose saw my tattoos when she cleaned the cut on my shoulder, but she just pursed her lips and didn't say something. I have a tattoo of an angel on my collarbone and a tattoo of a demon on my back at the same place.

When they were both sure I was fine (physically and mentally) they made me change into dry pajamas in the bathroom and sent me up to bed.

But I couldn't get the images-the man on the stretcher, the truck rolling in flames, the glass shards sprayed across the pavement-out of my mind. So sleep was a long time coming.

The next morning, I woke with the sun, as always. I don't need much sleep. I glared at myself in the reflection of the window. The bandage on my forehead, just above the left of my gray eyes, was conspicuous, to say the least. I did my best to comb my short black hair into a braid only three twists long, but I liked anyways. My hoodie and army jacket were still damp from last night, but I put them on anyway, over a pink tank top with NO FEAR written on it in white, and a collar high enough to cover my tattoos. I also found my cargo pants and converse.

Demitra was still snoring away on her cot, but I knew she would get in trouble if she was late to breakfast, so I grabbed a leg and dragged her onto the floor. "Demitra! Roaches! They're everywhere, and they're _hungry!_ " Demitra sat bolt-upright, tangled brown hair sticking straight out from her head like it had become home to a baby raccoon sometime during the night.

"You should _not_ take so much joy from that." Demitra glared at me.

"Come on, get up." I laughed, my screw-up from last night momentarily forgotten. I helped my roommate to her feet. Demitra is plump, with dark skin, tangled brown curls, and charcoal skin. I tossed her her clothes. "We're late." Demitra wore her school uniform: dark red sweater over a white button up shirt, a black skirt, and black shoes. But she had cropped four inches off of the bottom of the sweater, and put rainbow laces in the shoes.

We didn't go to the same school. Well, we used to, but a week ago I had gotten expelled for starting one too many fights. I was going to start at a new public school in three weeks, but until then I had nothing to do. But Demitra and I always walked to school together, so I accompanied her even though I didn't go in.

Demitra grabbed three pieces of toast for us on the way out-we had missed breakfast entirely messing around on the stairs, and the other kids were already out the door. Demitra and I jogged out of the door, giving one piece of toast to me, keeping one for herself, and feeding one to the stray dog that lived in the alley.

Demitra and I stopped in front of the school. "See you later, Mitra." I said, turning to go back to the home. But Mack Gully had other ideas.

Mack Gully was only a freshman, but we were seventh graders and he was majorly bigger. Even the other bigger kids were scared of him. There was no doubt: Mack ruled this school. The teachers thought he could do no wrong, he loved pounding younger kids, and he also loved to show off that he was richer then us kids from the home. And everybody else. And since my first day here, Mack had decided that he hated me.

"Hey, Rory!" Mack yelled. I didn't stop. _Just get out of the school yard…._ I told myself, but Mack grabbed my arm. "You owe me some money. Hey, I'm talkin to you!" Mack made me pay him ten dollars every monday for his "expenses", even though his parents are richer then god, and I rarely had the ten dollars. I think his gang just liked the excuse to beat me up.

"I noticed. You _are_ yelling, you know. Now please let me go before I have to hurt you." I snarled. I knew I could take this guy down with one turn of my wrists, but I had to keep my powers a secret. Nobody could know.

"Did you guys hear that?" Mack called to his friends-two girls (Janet and Pomphrey) and a buff guy (Lane, I think). They jeered at me. "She said _please._ Okay, who wants to go first?" Pomphrey and Lane grabbed my arms, dragged me out of the school yard and into an alley, and slammed me against a wall.

"Let me go, dung heads!" I cursed, trying to yank myself free. Trying desperately not to use my powers. "I'll tell the teachers. Hell, I'll tell the fricking FBI, Gully!" Mack jeered again.

"Pomphrey, you wanna shut her up?" Pomphrey jeered, and punched me in the gut. I gagged. I had to stay calm. I couldn't use my powers. "Want to pay up, Rory? Had enough?"

"Leave her alone!" Demitra was running towards us, but Mack shoved her back and she was no match for him. "She hasn't done anything to you!"

"Scram, Princess, or you'll be next." Mack threatened. Demitra paled.

"Mitra, just go." I sighed. "I'll be fine." Demitra glanced between me and Mack, then turned and hurried away. Pomphrey glanced at me uncertainly.

"Can I hit her again?"

"No?" I said hopefully. Can't blame me for trying. Janet and Lane slammed me against the wall again, and when they were done Pomphrey punched me in the jaw so hard I saw stars. Mack doesn't even fight his own battles, the coward.

"Hey!" A mans voice, from the street. Finally, a pedestrian. I love pedestrians. I wouldn't be nearly this pretty if it weren't for pedestrians. "What are you doing?" Mack glared at the man, who had sandy brown hair, a strong jaw, and hazel eyes. He wore a brown leather jacket, a plaid shirt, and jeans. He also looked strangely familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him before.

"Back off, old man, this isn't any business of yours." Mack growled.

"How many 40's gangster movies have you _seen?_ " I asked, panting, but Pomphrey hit me in the jaw again, and this time I almost fell over.

"Let her go." The man said threateningly. "You don't want to mess with me. I'm trying to do you a favor here."

"We could take you." Mack snarled.

"No, you couldn't." The man pulled a round red-white-and-blue shield off his back. How had we not seen that before? That was nuts! Mack tried to punch him, but the man pushed Mack to the side easily with his shield, like Mack was a small child. I was impressed that he had resisted the urge to smack Mack in the face with something heavy and metal. It's always a little hard for me. Then the man turned the shield and shoved back Pomphrey so that she landed on her but in a puddle. Lane and Janet glanced at each other and took off running, helping the other two up and scrambling away.

I stumbled as soon as they let me go, rubbing my jaw, but the man caught my elbow to steady me.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking honestly worried.

"I'm fine," I said. "Thanks for the save."

"I don't like bullies," He said.

"I love the random pedestrians that save me from bullies." We both laughed. This guy seemed decent, I was less beat up then I could've been right now, and it was sunny out. All in all, a pretty decent day.

"What happened to your eye?" Shield man frowned at the cut above my left eye, held shut with two butterfly wing bandages. "Was that those kids?"

"If it was those kids, would they also have been considerate enough to put bandaids on it?" I asked, and didn't wait for an answer. "It wasn't them, but it's fine."

"Are you sure you're okay?" The man was looking genuinely concerned now.

"I'm fine. And thanks again. But I'd better go." I fled the alley before he could ask any more questions that I had no intention of answering.

 **There is: chapter one of a new story. It's a beautiful thing. Just look at it! *wipes away tear and the amazingness of own writing*. Anyway, please review/follow/favorite this story. Later, taters.**


	2. Inertia begins

**AN: thanks for reading this far, because it probably means that you like the story, which is a good thing. I don't own the Avengers. Please review/follow/favorite me or the story.**

I shoved open the door of the home, and was greeted with Mother Superior's stern face. "We need to talk, Rosalind."

" _Rory._ " I muttered. I hate my real name. Probably not the right thing to say-Mother Superior's frown deepened as she marched me up to her office on the second floor.

"Please close the door." Mother Superior said.

"With me on which side of it?" I asked hopefully.

"This side." She snapped. I sighed and closed her office door. "Sit down." I plopped down on the chair in front of her desk, and she settled into the armchair on her side. "Are you going to tell me what it is you do when you go out at night?"

"No, ma'am." I said. "With respect, it's not really your business."

"Rosalind. As the Mother Superior it is my job to take care of the children here, and lead them to godliness." I'm betting now it's the time to tell her that I don't believe in god. "There are many dangers in this city at night for young ladies out on their own. And because of this, it is my job to keep you here. So it's for your own good that I _ground_ you, until you start at the new school. Nowhere but this building until then."

"But-"

"Am I clear, Rosalind?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. There was no getting out of this. Mother Superior nodded, and let me go. She might've grounded me, but she didn't know about my powers. She couldn't keep me here. I could still leave whenever I wanted, through the window.

Steve Rogers wasn't sure why the girl had had saved from bullies that day was bothering him so much. Something about her wasn't as it seemed, and it was stuck in his brain. Maybe it was her eyes. Gray like storm clouds. But they looked worn and determined, like the eyes of a soldier at war. But that was silly-she couldn't be older then fourteen. _There's more then one kind of war,_ he reminded himself.

Or maybe he was just worried about the meeting with Director Fury today. Steve and the other Avengers had been called to meet with Fury, and Steve was late. He had spent too long talking to the gray-eyed girl.

Steve reached the Avengers tower and pushed open the front door. He jogged to the elevator and waited anxiously for the elevator. When it finally came, he tapped his foot the entire ride up to the top floor. When he came in, Fury and the other Avengers were already seated in the living room, and all looked up when they saw him.

"Glad you could finally join us, Mr. Rogers," Fury said. As usual, making Steve feel like a schoolboy that was late to class.

"Sorry I'm late." Steve grumbled sitting down.

"As I was _saying_ -" Fury tapped one of Stark's holo screens, and a triangular "play" symbol popped up. "This video was taken from the security camera of a police car." Fury tapped the play symbol, and the blurry image of the back of a pickup truck appeared.

The Avengers watched as the police car followed the black pickup around corners and through red lights. At the side of the screen, on the sidewalk, there was suddenly a blurred figure in a black hoodie, and they were _running the same speed as the car_. Then the figure was gone again. The truck roared onto a highway on ramp, followed by the police car, and suddenly the figure in the black hoodie was flying between the police car and the truck. They landed on the bed of the pickup, but when they saw the police car they pulled up their hoodie with a quick glance back. They banged on the back window. The driver of the truck panicked and swerved, and the last view they had of the figure in the black hoodie was them leaping off of the side of the truck right before the truck started to roll.

"Who is that?" Romanoff asked, glancing at Fury and then back to the holo screen.

"We don't know." Fury tapped the rewind icon, and froze the video on one frame: the figure glancing back at the police car. Their black hood was pulled low, shadowing their face too much to be very helpful, so that all you could see was the flash of startlingly familiar gray eyes.

"I know her!" Steve burst out.

Everyone else looked at him, in shock. "You do? Who is she, capsicle? Let's go get her." Stark asked, holding a glass of wine in one hand. Steve felt like reminding Stark that he probably shouldn't be drinking at nine in the morning, but there were bigger fish to fry.

"I met her on my way here, that's why I was late. She was getting beaten up in an alley. I didn't catch her name, but I'd recognize those eyes anywhere." Steve said.

"Dude, the mysterious woman that flew, ran at super speeds, and blew up a truck…. was getting beaten up in an alley?" Stark asked skeptically.

"She wasn't using her powers. And she was just a kid. Around fourteen, I'd guess."

"Was there anything about her that could tell us where to find her?" Fury asked.

Steve racked his brains. She'd been wearing worn dirty clothes, faded with age… so she was poor, but that was half the city nowadays. Maybe the kids who were beating her up… they were wearing a school uniform!

"No, but the kids beating her up wore school uniforms. There's a private school on that block, we could check there. Those kids seemed to know who she was. I could probably recognize them. But why are we looking for her? The guy she stopped was a criminal. Can't we just leave her alone?"

"The driver of that pickup truck is currently in critical condition." Fury said. Steve shifted uncomfortably. The girl from the alley hadn't seemed dangerous-but her eyes. He should've known. They were soldiers eyes. He should've known she wasn't a normal kid. "We don't know if she meant to do it, but even if she didn't she's dangerous to those around her and has to be tracked down."

"What would you do to her when we've tracked her down?" Dr. Banner asked suspiciously.

"Contain her." Fury turned off the holo screen, and started to walk away. "Start at the school. Find her, and bring her to the Avengers Facility."

The Avengers glanced at each other. This might not end well.

That night I opened the window and climbed out, turning off gravity so that I could float midair while I closed the window. I had on my black hoodie, the now-dry army jacket, and torn jeans.

I returned gravity to normal, then switched it off again just before I hit the ground to slow my fall. I landed easily on my feet.

I walked quickly through the alley and along the streets, just enjoying being out by myself at night. I don't go looking for trouble-it's just that it usually happens near me and if I can help, why shouldn't I? That night was an example.

From the other side of the street, I heard a scream. "Help me!" I spun. A teenage guy was trying to take an old ladies handbag, and she was doing a surprisingly good job holding on for someone that old. I glanced along the street. I had somehow found probably the _only_ otherwise deserted street in the _history_ of New York City. I sighed and pulled down my hood over my face. I ran forward, and changed the pull of the street lamp. I released its pull, kicked off it, landed on my feet, and made myself fly to the fire hydrant-which was on the other side of the teenage boy.

I flew and tackled him, pinning him to to the hydrant. I returned gravity to normal, landing easily on my feet. The boy ran for it. I tugged my hood lower, before I turned to the old woman.

"Are you okay?" She nodded. When I looked closer, I saw that there was something strange about her. Painted on the middle of her forehead was an eye, her skin was so pale I could see her veins through it, and she wore long red silk clothes, with gold chain necklaces. Her long white hair was tied in a braid.

"What is your name, child?" She asked. And there was something in her voice that sounded like she was going somewhere with this.

"I can't tell you," I said, tugging the hood lower again. "It's secret."

"Then who shall I tell people saved me?" She asked, smiling.

"Um… I don't know."

"Gravity, right?" The old woman asked, and I nodded numbly. "I thought so. I'm impressed, child. I will them that your name is…. _Inertia._ "

"That sounds cool, but I don't want to be a hero. I don't try to help people, I just…"

"The greatest heroes are the ones that didn't even want the job." She smiled at me serenely. "The world could use one more hero. But you must be strong, child. Thank you for your help." She turned and walked away like nothing had happened.

 **Adios, mis amigos. Por favor leave a review or follow/fav the story.**


	3. Never coming back

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. Please review/follow/favorite, I really appreciate it.**

When Romanoff woke up, Steve was already sitting at the kitchen table, glaring at the front page of the New York Times. "Have you seen this?"

"What is it?" Romanoff asked, sitting down across from him. Steve handed her the newspaper. **NEW HERO IN NYC** was written across the top, and the photo below that was a blurry blown-up picture, probably taken from a phone, of a teenage girl with a black hoodie pulled over her face with her back to the camera, tackling a teenage boy who looked like he was trying to steal an old womans purse.

"We have to find her before Fury has an aneurism, look-" Steve pointed to the subline under the headline. " _ **Inertia" seems to have some power over gravity**_. Steve had several other newspapers, with headlines like; **NEW AVENGER?** and **WHO IS THIS NEW HERO?** and sublines like; _**New hero is nicknamed "Inertia" by woman she saved**_ and _**How did Inertia get strange gravitational powers?**_. "They all have different theories about who she is, and how she got her powers. Look, this one thinks she's asgardian."

"She is not asgardian." Thor said, walking in and glancing at the newspapers.

"How do you know?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"She doesn't have that _look_."

" _What_ look? That's like saying you can tell that someone's from earth just by looking at them."

"I can."  
"I seriously doubt that." Romanoff put in, looking up from the newspaper to glance between Steve and Thor. "Come on. No time for arguing. We have to get to the school before it starts, to try and find the kids you saw beating up "Inertia"."

"Inertia is actually a pretty cool name." Stark said, swinging around the door jam and glancing through the newspapers. "If she really warps gravity the way this says, then Inertia totally fits."

"We're not giving her a cute name," Romanoff snapped. "We're bringing her in on possible attempted murder." That shut them up.

Steve was able to lead them back to the school by the place he had seen the gray-eyed girl the day before. "This is the school." He said. "Come on, I'm pretty sure I can recognize the kids from yesterday."

As it turned out, he wouldn't have to.

There was a shout from behind the school. The four Avengers (Romanoff, Steve, Thor, and Stark) glanced at each other and sprinted for the source of the yell.

"Wait!" A boy with tangled hair grabbed Romanoff's arm. They all stopped. "You don't want to go back there. Mack Gully's pounding Rory again, there's nothing you can do. You'll just make him mad!" Romanoff pulled away and they headed for the back of the school.

It was the gray-eyed girl.

Though, she wasn't "Mack Gully". From what they could see, it looked like the girl with dark skin and inky black hair was Rory, the girl with her arms pinned behind her and was getting beaten up. The girl with gray eyes was being held back by a boy and a girl, and was the only one that wasn't in school uniform.

The girl with black hair, probably Rory, yelled. "Let go of me!"

"Let her go, she has nothing to do with this, _let her go!_ " The gray-eyed girl yelled hoarsely. She twisted and kicked the boy punching her friend in the ribs, but she got slammed against the wall for her efforts. "I swear, Mack, if you touch her one more time I will personally kick your-"

"Rory?" Romanoff asked, looking between the girl with gray eyes and the girl with black hair. "Which one of you is Rory?"

"That'd be me," The girl with gray eyes snapped. "Could use a hand, over here."

"Anytime you wanted to help, would be okay by me." The girl with black hair glared at the Avengers.

It didn't take long for earth's mightiest heroes to scare away four evil freshmen. Rory brushed her black hair behind one ear and helped her wincing friend over to the Avengers. "Are you sure?" The girl with black hair asked quietly, glancing suspiciously at the Avengers.

"I'm sure," Rory nodded, and the girl with black hair shrugged and went back to the front of the school. Rory glared at the four heroes for a moment, like she was sizing them up. Finally she said to Steve, "That's two I owe you. Thanks."

"You don't owe us anything." Steve shook his head. "But we have a few questions for you. We need you to come with us."

"And why would that be?" Rory asked skeptically. "I haven't done anything wrong, and last I checked you have to have an arrest warrant to arrest people." She put her hands on her hips.

"You're not being arrested." Stark rolled his eyes. "We just have some questions."

"That's a little thing we call, _being arrested_ , dumbass." Rory snorted.

"Child, are you or are you not Inertia?" Thor asked impatiently. Rory's face froze. She looked back and forth between them with her grin frozen on her face like she couldn't decide whether to keep pretending to be a happy kid or to show her cards and say yes. Because Romanoff had a feeling that this girl, Rory, was Inertia.

"Sorry, yes." Then she twisted her hands, and spun to run away. Steve tried to grab her, but with one step she was already ten feet away. It was like she was… floating. Just a little. Like gravity had stopped affecting her.

The Avengers gave chase. Rory easily vaulted the chain-link fence behind the school, landing in an alley. She glanced up at a fire escape and turned her hands again, and then was shooting upward…. literally falling up. She turned and slammed into the bottom of the top platform of a fire escape, standing upside down like she was standing on the ground. And it wasn't like she was just hanging there somehow-her hair and clothes fell towards the bottom of the platform as well. She must have made the gravitational pull of the fire escape stronger then earth's own gravity for a second, so that she was pulled up and held there. Thor and Stark flew up towards her, but she was already flipping onto the top of the fire escape and running lightly away on top of the roof. She leapt to the next one with ease, as if she was being pulled towards the next roof. Romanoff and Steve followed along below. Stark and Thor flew along, and caught up with her at the edge of the next roof.

From below, Romanoff couldn't hear what was happening. But finally Rory nodded and leapt easily off of the roof, floating down towards the ground with her hair floating around her face. She landed lightly in the alley in front of Romanoff.

"I'll go with you." She sighed, Stark and Thor landing on either side of her. "I mean, you've already seen my face, my friend, and my favorite bully, plus you know my name. So it's not like running would do much good."

"How do you do that?" Steve asked at once.

"How do I do what?" Rory asked, but the side of her mouth curled up just a tiny bit so Romanoff could tell that she knew what Steve was talking about.

"How do you change gravity?"

"I just can." Rory shrugged. "I've always been able to do it."

"That's very impressive," Thor said nodding. "Even on my world, there is no one with power such as this."

"Thanks." Rory said, even though she looked a little confused. "Um, when you say "your own" do you mean that earth isn't your world? You're an alien?"

Thor nodded. "I'm an asgardian, and a son of odin."

"Cool." Rory said. "I'm an earthian. Pleased to meet you." Stark had to stuff one metal-gloved hand in his mouth to keep from laughing. "So can we get going? Also, I should probably tell the Mother Superior back at the home that I'm leaving. Technically I'm supposed to be grounded right now."

"You live in a home?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, for orphans." Rory nodded, like that was no big deal.

"Why?" Stark asked, and Rory gave him a look like _dude, seriously?_

"It's a home for orphans. Think really hard about why I would live in a home for orphans." She seemed suddenly defensive, shifting her stance slightly like a boxer in the ring. Romanoff could tell that her hands were in fists, even though they were jammed into the pockets of her hoodie.

"Sorry," Stark mumbled, going pink.

"Whatever." Rory shrugged. "Now c'mon, I have to tell Mother Superior where I'm going." Then she turned and started walking away, like it was decided. Romanoff followed without hesitation, and knew the the three men were following. But as Rory lead them into an even worse part of town then they'd been in before (if possible), Romanoff found herself worrying for the gray-eyed girl. Orphanage...found her getting beaten up...bad neighborhood…. This kid clearly didn't have an easy life. Add to that powers that she seemed to not have wanted to tell her friend with the black hair about… she almost felt bad for the girl, but she knew she wouldn't want the pity. She just didn't seem like the pity type.

Rory stopped at a door set a few feet into the front wall of a dirty brick building, and shoved it open. The window of the door had something printed on it in black, but it was so warped and dirty it couldn't be read. She walked in, but hesitated halfway through the door. "Um, maybe you shouldn't come with me."

"One of us has to go with you, you're under arrest." Steve said, almost apologetically.

"I'll go," Romanoff volunteered. Rory nodded and led the way inside.

Romanoff nodded to the guys, and she followed Rory in. It was a small room with brick walls, a banged-up wooden floor, a worn red carpet, and desk with a lamp set on it. Sitting behind the desk was a kind looking young woman with honey hair, wearing a nun's habit. She looked up in surprise at Rory, who grinned in greeting.

"Morning, Sister Callighan. Is the Mother Superior in her office?"

"Yes, but aren't you supposed to be grounded, Rosalind?"

"No. Where'd you hear that? They're a liar." Rory said hurriedly, jogging into the hall past the nun. "C'mon, Ms. Romanoff. Mother Superior will want to talk to you." Romanoff followed Rory up the three flights of stairs to another hallway, and the Mother Superior's office.

Rory knocked on the door nervously, and an old woman's voice said, "Come in, Rory." Rory gave Romanoff the thumbs up and swung the door open. It was a small office, with one brick wall and three wooden ones. The window in the brick wall opened onto the dirty alley. A foot tall wooden statue of an angel standing over two children, a boy and a girl, was painted with faded colors and set on a shelf by the door with books set on either side of it. Growing on the window sill was a few pink peonies growing in a small pot with children's handprints on it in paint.

"Morning, Mother Superior." Rory said, and it was the first time Romanoff had seen her show respect to anyone. "I need to talk to you."

The woman sitting behind the desk was nowhere near as nice-looking as the office. She sat perfectly straight, like there was a meter stick taped to her back, and her hawkish wrinkled face had a hooked nose and her gray hair was pulled in a severe bun under her habit. This must be the Mother Superior. "Sit down, Rosalind. Who are you?" She asked Romanoff suspiciously.

"Natasha Romanoff, agent of shield."

"What's Rosalind done this time?" The old woman asked sharply. "She's supposed to be grounded, and she's always out at night, coming home early in the morning injured or sometimes almost not at all." She shook her head. "And now a government agent at our door. I swear, Rosalind, if it's anything worse then shoplifting you're out of this home. We just can't afford to keep you around anymore."

"I know…." Rosalind winced, frowning at her knees. Romanoff could tell she would have to do the talking, and sat forward.

"Ma'am, shield is bringing Rory in on attempted murder." Romanoff said. Mother Superior looked shocked for a moment, but then her face tightened. Her mouth became a straight line.

"That's it, Rosalind. Pack your things and don't come back."

"But I-" Rory spluttered.

"I meant that, Rosalind." the Mother Superior snapped. "When you're done with these people you will go to social services and they will find you a home, but you are not welcome here anymore."

"You can't just-" Rory tried for a smile, but it faltered.

"I can and I must." The old woman shook her head slightly, silencing Rory's pleas with a glare. "You are ungodly and dangerous to the other children here. Demitra will be better off without you around. I don't want to see you here again."

"I understand." Rory said quietly. Her face was just blank now. She looked at the wood of the desk without emotion. "I won't be back."

"You had better not be." The old woman nodded. Romanoff looked back and forth between them, shocked. Had Rory really just gotten kicked out of her home? She could never come back again?

"You must be joking, you can't kick her out-" Romanoff said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"It's fine, Romanoff. Just leave it." Rory said in a flat tone, standing up, face still blank, and walking for the door. "I'm going to get my things and then we can go." Romanoff shot one last glare at the Mother Superior and followed Rory out of the office.

Romanoff tried to console Rory, and actually went so far as to put a hand on her shoulder. "Rory, I'm-"

"Rosalind." Rory's voice was still flat and blank. She brushed off Romanoff's hand, and walked down the hallway. "Rory is just a stupid nickname for Rosalind. I should learn to call things what they are." Even though what she had just said seemed like it should've been miserable, her voice was still flat and her face was still blank. She walked to the end of the hall, opened the door to a small grimy bedroom, and opened the closet from the room. "It will only take me a second to get my things. You can wait outside if you want." Romanoff could tell that Rory wanted a moment alone. She went outside.

 **AN: also, can somebody tell me if I'm spelling Romanoff right? I never remember if its Romanov or Romanoff. I can't tell from them saying it in the movies. Please review/favorite/follow.**


	4. Handcuffs

**A/N: A big thanks to everybody who's favorited or followed this story. I don't own the Avengers. Please leave a review (and somebody please tell me if I'm spelling "Romanoff" right, because I'm seriously not sure) or follow/favorite the story.**

I opened the closet and stuck my head inside, waiting for Romanoff to leave and shut the door behind her before I started dry heaving. I wasn't actually about to hurl-but probably cry. I gasped and rubbed dry eyes, trying to make sense of my jumbled thoughts. I was being kicked out. They didn't want me around anymore, and I could see why. Demitra really would be better off without me, I realized. I was just a bad influence. I had gotten her beaten up by Mack today-tomorrow she could be hurt even worse.

It only took me a minute to pull myself together. I had always kind of known this would happen one day. But I hadn't expected it to be today. I stuffed my clothes into my school backpack, and my few other belongings. I quickly scribbled a note to Demitra, and left it on her nightstand. Then I swept out the door, saying one last goodbye to the room I grew up in, ran my hand along the wallpaper of the stairs the way I always did, saying silent goodbyes to the kids that belonged to each room as I passed it. I would miss this place, even if I had often hated it here.

I pushed open the front door and nearly ran into the Avengers. Romanoff gave me a concerned look, but I immediately set my jaw and turned my face blank.

"Let's go," I said, brushing past them. "You have a car or something? I ain't walking all the way to wherever the hell it is we're going." I tried to offer a smile, but it was weak. At least it didn't look like Romanoff had told any of the others that I had gotten booted out, probably never to see Demitra or my home ever again.

"There's a car waiting back by the school." Steve said, and I got the feeling that he could tell something was wrong with me. But he didn't pry.

"Great. C'mon, then." I tugged on my backpack straps and led them back towards the school. "If I'm going to get arrested, I'd prefer to do it quickly."

We walked back to the school, and found their car. It was parked near the alley where I had first met Steve the day before, and he saved me from Mack the _first_ time. I climbed in the back seat without argument, even though it was built like a cop car, with a chain link barrier between me and the front seat. Stark and Thor were going to fly back, so Romanoff drove and Steve sat in the passenger seat.

I leaned against the window, my elbow up on the door, staring at my reflection in the glass. My eyes brimmed with tears as the car pulled away, and I watched my neighborhood slide by the window.

There was the grocery store where Demitra and I got donuts for seventy cents each after school on fridays. There was the theater where Demitra's boyfriend Alan took her on their first date, before he was adopted and had to move away from the city. On the other side of the car was the artist's studio where Demitra and I's friend Ramone worked, some of his paintings hanging in the window. And the abandoned construction site where Demitra and I used to play, pretending that we were astronauts or, better yet, superheroes. The joke was on her. The crane I had once been dared to climb, and broken my arm when I had fallen from thirty feet up. The candy store where the owner, Ms. Michigan, would give Demitra and I "free samples" for sweeping the floor or washing the windows.

I said goodbye to my home, and my best friend. I wasn't good at friends, but Demitra was my best one. She didn't hate me for pulling stupid stunts and picking fights with people I had no chance of winning against. She didn't run when I was diagnosed with PTSD. And she was the one who took me downtown to party all night when she heard that I had gotten over the PTSD, two years ago.

I remembered the first time I had met Demitra, when I was eight years old, three months after my family falling apart. I had nothing back then-my parents were dead and my brother's trial had just gotten him tossed in jail for the next ten years. It's only four years, now-but nevermind that.

 _I knocked nervously on the door of my new bedroom. The Mother Superior here had just told me that my new roommate was named Demitra Ross. "Yeah?" The door swung open. "Are you my new roommate?" The girl in the doorway asked._

" _Um, I think so. I'm Rosalind." I said, passing the handle of my suitcase back and forth between my hands._

" _That's an old lady name. I'm calling you Rory. I'm Demitra, by the way."_

" _Rory?"_

" _Don't you like it?" She asked, frowning._

" _I like it." I broke into a grin. "I think it fits me."_

" _You bet it fits you! C'mon, let me help you with that." Demitra snatched my suitcase and led me into the bedroom. "You can have whichever bunk you want, Rory. I know it can be scary right after your folks pass."_

" _My-"_

" _Mine were in a car crash. How'd yours go?" Demitra asked it casually, like it didn't matter that much. Like it didn't bother her much anymore. I promised myself then that I would be just as brave as her one day._

" _My mom and my brother conspired to kill my daddy. They shot him, and my mom was sent to death row. My brother is in jail, now." I stared at the carpet._

" _I'm not going to feel sorry for you." Demitra's frank words shot me. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the beds. "You don't need people to feel sorry for you. You need people to believe that you can be better then that. So that's what I'm going to do."_

And that's what she's done ever since. Whenever I screwed up-when I got detention or a black eye in a fight or caught shoplifting-she would sigh, fix her eyes on mine, and say, "You can do better then this. I still know that you can be better then them."

And I would say, "I don't think I can be."

And she would say, "Yes you can."

"Rory?" I jumped, banging my head on the window. It was Steve.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, but we're here." I hadn't even noticed that we were stopped at the bottom of a huge building with **Avengers** in big white neon letters on the side of it. "We're taking a helicopter to the Avengers base where you're going to be staying until this matter is cleared up."

"I'm betting Stark built this place?" I asked. At Steve's surprised expression, I mustered a fake smile. "I can tell 'cause your name's on the side of the building." I climbed out, and Romanoff caught my wrist. She clamped a pair of handcuffs on me. "Hey, what are you-"

"You're under arrest. We have to put the cuffs on you to make it official." She said, and I knew from her face that I shouldn't even try to argue with her.

I was led into the tower, into an elevator, and up to a penthouse with glass walls and floors, a bar and comfy couches, and expensive-looking paintings on the walls. A woman with strawberry blond hair, and a pretty freckled face was watching the news in the livingroom part of the penthouse, and a couple of guys that I didn't know were standing around. A man with dark hair and a purple shirt was working in a lab-like area, and a man with a bow and arrows was seated at the bar.

"Are Thor and Stark back yet?" Romanoff called to the man in the lab.

"Thor's on the roof, Starks in his lab." The man said, eyeing me. Steve walked ahead of me, but Romanoff was at my side, as if wanting to make sure I didn't jump out a window and fly away. "Is that her."

"It is in fact her." I said, smiling in a friendly way. "Rory King. And you would be?"

"Dr. Bruce Banner." The man said nervously, playing with his glasses in his hands.

"Nice to meet you." I said, being pulled away by Romanoff. "Nice bow, man." I called to the guy at the bar as I was dragged past him, too.

"Steve, Natasha, who is this girl? And why is she in handcuffs?" The woman with strawberry blond hair and a suit skirt was standing between us in the elevator, with her arms crossed and a look of disapproval on her face.

"She's wanted for attempted murder." Dr. Banner called, without looking up from whatever he was working on.

"I didn't kill anyone." I snapped.

"You arrest underage murderers, now?" The woman said.

"Pepper," Romanoff said, stopping the arguments. "Rory is here because she has special abilities, and we think she might've committed a felony with them. She's not staying, we're just taking her to the base via helicopter, which we left on your roof."

Pepper glared, but stepped out of the way. I was led past her, and up stairs to the roof of the building. Stark and Thor were there already, waiting next to a large black helicopter with **Avengers** painted on the side in big white letters. Did these people seriously have to write their names on everything?

"Is this how we're getting wherever we're going?" I asked. Thor nodded.

"I shall not be accompanying you. There are matters which I must attend to on my own world." Then he pointed his hammer upwards, and was shooting up towards the sky. I leaned back and craned my neck to see where he had gone.

"Wish I could do that." I sighed, watching him shoot away.

"You can fly," Steve said.

"No I can't, not technically. I just change gravity so that I'm falling up or sideways, but I have to be able to see what I'm being pulled to. Can't just go up like that. Now c'mon, I wanna get all of this over with as soon as possible." I might've been talking and smiling like usual, but I wasn't happy. Not happy at all. I would never see my home again, or my best friend. I wasn't welcome at the home anymore. Even after the Avengers let me go-if the avengers let me go-then I would still have to go into social services. My only family, my brother, was in jail and couldn't take care of me.

I climbed into the back of the helicopter.

 **AN: thanks for reading. Please review/favorite/follow.**


	5. Job offer

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. Please review/favorite/follow.**

 **I also wanted to thank Jade Fey, because you've followed/favorited like four of my stories, and reviewed most of them and I really appreciate it! Thanks!**

We flew in the helicopter for four hours, and Steve and Romanoff wouldn't even tell me where we were going. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew I was waking up as the helicopters loud engines shut down.

I blinked blearily and rubbed my eyes with my fists. We were on the roof of a long warehouse-liked building with a giant A painted on it. Probably stood for Avengers. Romanoff led me out and down a set of steps. We walked through the tangle of hallways until we reached a large room with punching bags, a boxing ring, targets bristling with arrows, bullet-riddled cardboard people, and a lot of other superhero-training stuff. This must be where the Avengers practiced their skills between missions. It was pretty cool, and cheered me up considerably.

A woman with dark hair wearing red leather was seated on a bench by the windows, flipping through a magazine. She looked up when we came in.

"Where are the others?" Romanoff asked.

"Falcon and Vision are on mission in Canada." The woman in red leather said with a russian accent. "And you must be this _Inertia_ we've heard so much about."

"Rory King," I said. "But Inertia is good."

"I still think her name should be Vertigo." Steve said, jogging in through the door we'd come from. "That one sounds pretty good."

"I like Inertia." I said. The woman I had saved had given me that name-it seemed special. Something I had earned. "But aren't I supposed to be under arrest?"

"You are, in fact, under arrest." It was a guy with an eyepatch.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Nick Fury, director of SHIELD." Something about this guy told me that I shouldn't mess with him. He meant business, and he could kill me in thirty ways if he wanted to.

"I didn't mean to hurt that man." I said. "That's why I'm here, right?"

"That's the official reason," Fury said. "But not the whole story."

"It's not?" Steve asked. The woman in red leather set her magazine down, and walked over to hear this better. "Then what's the unofficial reason?"

"The Avengers need a covert operative. Someone trustworthy, with powers, that isn't known to the public. Someone that can get around unseen." Fury said, and it took me a moment to process what he was saying.

"I'm not-I mean I don't-I can't-"

"All due respect, sir, but she's fourteen." Steve said. "We shouldn't drag her in. And SHIELD still has enough operatives for us to not need her help,"

"I know that. But none of them are powered. Besides," Fury fixed his good eye on me. "I've got a good feeling about this one. She's all yours."

"Um, excuse me?" I hate it when people talk about me like I'm not there. These guys needed their heads deflated. "I'm still here, pirate captain!" Everyone but Fury winced a little, and I knew I shouldn't have brought up the eyepatch, but I was mad. These people needed a good dose of reality. "I do not have to work for you! I do not _want_ to work for you! So go find some other chump to do your bidding, eyepatch, because I a'int doin' it! I have enough crap to deal with without taking on anything else, so go jump in a lake!"

Fury just turned to the other three grownups, who all looked shocked. "See?" Someone on the other side of the room started clapping. It was Stark. "She's a new Avenger. Train her. No arguments."

" _Excuse me?_ " I practically screamed. But Fury was already walking away. I gaped at the adults. This was… not good.

"You're stuck here with us, Rory." The woman in red leather said, almost apologetically. "What are your powers exactly? Gravity manipulation, right?"

"Y-Yeah, but… I'm not…. I don't _want_ to be a hero." I said, looking at each of the Avengers in turn, desperately hoping that one of them would let me go. "I can't be an Avenger! I can't!"

"There's no arguing with Fury." Romanoff said.

"Hold up, if the kid doesn't want to be an Avenger, we shouldn't make her-"

They burst into arguments. I tried to line up my thoughts. I didn't want to be a hero-one mugging and a car chase where I had nearly killed someone on accident? Didn't sound like the hero type to me. And what about Demitra? But on the other hand… if I couldn't go back to the home, there weren't many better places to live then with the Avengers. And they could help me use my powers better. And the look of gratitude on the old woman's face when I saved her...she had thought I was a hero. Demitra had always said I could be better. Maybe they were right.

"Hey!" I said, interrupting the arguing Avengers. "I'll do it."

"Rory, you don't have to-"

"I _want_ to do it." I said. I held up my wrists. "But you'll have to do something about these handcuffs first."

"You're going to be our undercover Avenger. You'll have to blend in in some rough places to do what Fury wants." Wanda explained. She and Romanoff were trying to explain why I didn't get a cool costume.

"But what about a cape? Thor gets a cape!" I didn't really care about the clothes-I just thought this was funny.

"You don't get a cape." Romanoff said, looking bored. " _Inertia_ has worn a hoodie in both her appearances so far."

"Yeah, but I thought joining the Avengers would mean getting a cool costume." I pouted. "Everyone else gets one."

"There's clothes already in the new room Fury had prepared for you." Wanda said. So far, she seemed a lot nicer then Romanoff. Though that wasn't necessarily saying much. She led me through the facility to a door with my name on it.

"Jeez, how long has he been planning this?" I mumbled.

"Once you're dressed, meet us back at the training room and we can get started." Wanda said. She and Romanoff headed back the way we'd come. I pushed open the door of my room.

It was way bigger then the room I shared with Demitra at the home, back in NYC. The floors were polished hardwood, a queen-sized bed sat against one wall, a modern desk and shelves were against another wall, and a modern chandelier hung from the ceiling. There was a private bathroom that was bigger then my old bedroom, and a walk-in closet that was just as big. The left and right walls of the closet were stuffed with clothes, all of which were my size (I tried to ignore the mild creepiness of that). The whole place felt way too nice to be mine, like I was in the white house and if I touched anything the secret service would arrest me.

The clothes were my style, though. Searching through them I relaxed and pretended this was just a mall trip with Demitra. I imagined her voice, telling me what went with what and what was cool and not. I smiled a little. I wished she was here.

I found a dark blue hoodie with **NY GIANTS** in big white letters on the front, skinny jeans with tears on the knees, a white Bart Simpson tank top, and red-and-white converse, all adequately faded and scuffed. I tied my short black hair in two messy pigtails, but my hair was short enough they were only about two inches long and stuck nearly straight out. I unzipped the hoodie and grinned at myself in the three full-length mirrors leaned against the wall.

I wandered into the bathroom, and found a cardboard box of hair dye under the sink. I had always wanted to dye my hair, but the Mother Superior had always said that I couldn't. It was all I could do to keep the dopey grin off my face.

I dyed streaks of ruby red in my hair, practically giggling with excitement. I let it dry, and then did a little dance around on the huge bed. This place was actually pretty cool.

I found my way back to the training room. "Okay," I grinned. "Let's get started, guys."

Inertia was officially an Avenger.

 **AN: please review/follow/favorite. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Avenging 101

**AN: thanks for reading. I don't own the Avengers, just Rory. Please review/follow/favorite, I really appreciate it. Seriously it makes my day. Please do. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

I shook my head. "I already said, no. I don't use guns."

"You'll get killed if you refuse to even touch a gun." Romanoff said, sounding annoyed. "It's just a stupid gun."

"I will not use a gun! I don't care what you say, _no._ " I said, folding my arms. "I can help people without shooting."

"Well you can't have a bow," Clint mumbled. "That's _my_ thing."

"Can't I just…. I dunno, punch criminals? I don't need a weapon."

"Kid, you can't just hit people." Steve said. "How about some sort of sword?"

"I think I would suck with a sword." I said. "We did fencing in gym once, and I failed at it. Can't I have something that's easier to use? Like… something I could throw?"

"Stark could probably build some different grenades." Wanda said.

"I could use grenades." I grinned. "That'd be cool."

"You refuse guns but you have no problem with bows, boxing, swords, and grenades?" Bruce asked, shaking his head. "You're a strange kid."

"I can't deny that one." I snorted and shrugged. "I just don't use guns."

"Why?" Romanoff said, and she was looking at me suspiciously. I didn't want the Avengers to find out about my family. That was personal. I might tell them someday, but not now. And my family was the reason I didn't like guns. So what was I supposed to say?

"Not your business. Can we have pizza for dinner? I'm starved, and pizza's a vegetable."

"What is 'piece of'?" Thor asked, confused. "I've never heard of it. And what is it a piece of?" I laughed, grateful for Thor's total lack of knowledge about the modern world. He had helped me change the subject without knowing it. Thank you, Thor.

"It's not a piece of anything, it's pizza. It's bread and tomatoes and cheese. It's my favorite food." I explained. Thor nodded.

"I wish to try this pizza. We should get some."

"Thats the plan, hammerhead!" I snorted, forcing a smile. I didn't feel like smiling, but I didn't want to talk about my family even more.

Romanoff finally stopped frowning at me. I thought she might've figured out about my family, or maybe they already knew-it was in my file at the home, it had been on the news when it had happened, and it was in the police archives. But apparently not. Demitra said I could be better then them-and so I wouldn't use a gun. That was how they had killed dad.

Stark ordered the pizza, and we all cracked up at the look on Thor's face when he had his first ever piece of four cheese and pepperoni. And everyone (except maybe Romanoff, who would glance at me once in a while, suspiciously) forgot about the guns thing. My secret was safe for now.

I've already written down in this record about my family, but a quick recap: mother and brother killed dad, mother sent to deathrow, brother in prison. Not the sort of thing I liked to chat about over Sunday tea. I had actually had PTSD from the whole thing-I had gotten over it, but my family is still a sore topic. I just hoped they didn't bring it up again.

 **AN: thanks for reading, sorry this one is short, I originally wrote one long chapter but split it in half (this was the first half), which is why this is short. Please review/follow/favorite the story! Adios, mis amigos.**


	7. sharing is caring

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. Please review/follow/favorite, constructive criticism appreciated. Thanks for reading.**

After dinner, I had a little free time. I climbed onto the roof and dove over the side, turning off gravity so that I floated gently in the air. I pushed off from the side of the building and made a tree on the edge of the meadow's gravity increase. I fell towards it, the ground passing by my side as a blur. I turned off gravity and floated again, pushing off from the tree and falling back towards the building. I reached up and pulled myself onto the roof.

Romanoff was waiting for me.

"Whats up?" I asked.

"Why were you in that home?" Romanoff studied me with intense dark brown eyes.

"I'm an orphan, genius." I snapped. "I thought I explained this already."

"What happened to your parents?" She asked. My mind spun. I needed a distraction desperately-I didn't want to talk about this.

"It's not your business." I said, and was horrified to hear my voice shaking. I spun around and stormed to the stairs. "Leave me alone."

Steve and Bruce came up out of the stairs, and I shoved past them. Steve caught my arm.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked, glancing between me and Romanoff, and twisting his hands nervously.

"I was asking her why she was in the orphanage."

"I said it's not your _business!_ " I wrenched my arm away, struggling not to let my voice shake, but it was a battle I was losing.

"What happened to your parents?" Romanoff demanded. "Where's your family?"

"I don't have a family!" I screamed hoarsely. They went silent. I spun to face them. "I don't have a family! Not anymore! They are dead! Dead or in prison for ever! So just leave me alone!" I fled down the stairs, flying through the hallways and shoving people aside, ignoring their shouts. I couldn't find my room, but I found the training room, which was empty.

I climbed onto the boxing ring and sat down in the middle of it, curled up in a ball. I pressed my face into my arms and gasped, trying not to cry. Memories flashed through my mind-dad laughing, our house, playing with the dog-and that horrible night. Gunshots. Testifying in court and standing by their graves.

I pushed the memories aside. I don't need them-don't want them.

There was a hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off. "What happened?" A woman said in a thick Russian accent. It was Wanda.

"Stupid Romanoff and her stupid questions." I brushed the tears off my cheek angrily, bringing up my head. Wanda was kneeling next to me, but we were still alone. Good. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but Wanda was nice. "She kept asking about-about my family, and-" I started to cry. I cursed myself and bit my lip, trying to regain my control.

"My brother died, you know." Wanda said. I looked up in surprise. She was frowning off into the distance, twisting her hands in her lap. "He was my twin brother, my only family, my best friend. He sacrificed himself to save Clint and an innocent child. He died a hero."

"My family didn't die heroes." I murmured.

"Then how did they die?" She asked kindly. I took a deep breath. I knew that I had to tell someone here. Wanda could help me avoid the other Avengers' questions. Telling her would make this easier, and she was the only one of the Avengers that I couldn't find anything wrong with. She reminded me of Demitra.

"I got up one night, for a glass of water. I went downstairs, and I saw my brother holding down my dad, my mom holding the gun." I took a deep breath, and Wanda knew better then to interrupt. "They shot him in the head. For the insurance money, I guess. I screamed and ran out of the house, and they shot at me. I ran and hid in the neighbor's backyard for three days, to terrified to leave. When I was sure they were gone, I went to the police. They arrested my mom and my brother. I testified against them in court, and my mom was sent to death row. One prick in her arm and she was dead."

I shifted to sit more comfortably and stared up at the ceiling. "My brother was given ten years in prison. I haven't visited him for six years, when he went in. He has four more years left. Then he'll get out and even then I won't want to see him. He doesn't deserve it."

There was a sound behind me. I turned around, and saw Romanoff, Bruce, Steve, Thor, Stark and Clint. I stared at them, fireworks going off in my mind. Had they heard all of that? How dare they eavesdrop!

"You heard all of that?" I gasped. They nodded, shame-facedly. I bit my lip, not wanting to cry again. "I have no family."

"Yeah you do," Stark said. I glared at him.

"Did you not hear any of that? I have no family."

"Sounds to me like you still got a brother. You're just mad at him." Stark said. I took a deep breath to keep from screaming.

"My brother worked with my mom to kill my father. Then he shot at me, trying to kill me. So yeah, I'm mad. I have an excuse to be mad, tin can." I glared at him. Then I stood up, brushed the dust off my knees, and took a deep breath to pull myself together. "But it doesn't matter."

"It does kind of matter." Steve said. He shot Romanoff a glare.

Romanoff pursed her lips, then said calmly, "Sorry. I didn't know."

"It's… fine." I said. It wasn't fine, but if these guys were going to be my team, then I would have to forgive Romanoff her stupidness. And at least now they knew, I wasn't hiding anything. But then I had a great idea. "Actually, it's not fine. There's only one thing that'll make it fine?"  
"What is that?" Thor asked. I crossed my arms and smirked.

"More pizza. And possibly some ice cream. Getcher wallet."

 **AN: thanks for reading! Please review/follow/favorite.**


	8. Snitch & Copper

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. Please leave a review or follow/favorite me or the story. Thanks for reading!**

I was sleeping. Then there was a loud blaring alarm. Then I was _not_ sleeping.

I screamed and tumbled out of bed, panickedly struggling to untangle myself from the blankets. I scrambled to my feet, the blaring alarm making my head pound. I stumbled to the door, blearily kicking off the blankets. I threw the door open, and staggered into the hallway. Early morning is really not my best time of day.

There were agents running all through the hallways, shouting and carrying guns. "What's going on?" I shouted.

"Intruders on the front lawn!" A grizzled looking man said as he passed me. I ran back into my room and pulled on the **NYC GIANTS** hoodie over my baggy purple pajama pants and black t-shirt. I ran back to the door hopping and pulling on my converse over bare feet. Then I stumbled back into the hallway, wishing Stark was done making the grenades he had promised me a few days before.

I sprinted through the hallways, shoving past agents who shouted for me to go back to my room and wait. I burst through the front door of the building and nearly ran into Thor.

"Who is it? What's going on?" I demanded.

"Intruders." He was running towards a black plane that was coming in for a landing on the lawn. "We know not who they are."

Romanoff and Wanda were already waiting on the lawn, Romanoff's guns aimed at the door of the plane. I knew Clint would be on the roof, and the others were back in New York City. I didn't have a weapon, but I clenched my fists (which probably wasn't interrogating at all, but I had to try). Thor held his hammer high, ready to throw it and smash some serious Asgardian butt if that's who it was in the plane.

The plane landed, and the door opened. It was a plump woman in a red suit, with hawkish features and sparse lips, and a bob cut of brown hair. Strolling along next to her was a teenage boy with pale skin, shaggy dark hair, obsidian eyes, a studded black trench coat and black jeans, and converse. Neither of them looked especially dangerous, but there was something about them that told me that they were not to be messed with.

"Who are they?" I muttered.

"We are representatives of the Collectors!" The woman in the red suit shouted, walking calmly down the ramp to the grass with the teenage boy swaggered along with her. She fixed her eyes calmly on me, sending shivers up my spine.

"What are the Collectors?" Romanoff shouted through the loud roar of the planes engines. "Why are you here?"

"The Collectors are sent by our leader, the Master." The woman in the red suit said levelly, obviously not intimidated by us at all.

"Humble name." I grumbled.

"It is fitting for him," the woman in the red suit said. How had she heard me over the roar of the engines? "The Master rules the whole world. You just don't know it yet. And he has sent us for the child."

I froze. She had to mean me. There were no other kids at the base. She had to mean me.

"You can't have her!" Wanda hissed.

"Inertia, go back inside." Romanoff said.

"No, I wanna-"

"Go back inside." Romanoff said, not looking away from the woman and trenchcoat boy, her gun pointed at the woman's head. I turned and went back in, knowing the two from the plane were staring at me. But I wasn't just going to wait in my room for something to happen.

As soon as I was past the doors and out of sight, I broke into a sprint. I raced through the hallways, barreled up the stairs, and burst onto the roof. Clint jumped, wobbling on the edge of the roof.

"Sorry," I panted. "What did I miss?"

"Not much." Clint frowned down at them. "They're arguing." He tapped his earpiece, and suddenly I could hear everything Romanoff could hear down below.

"Who are the Collectors?" Wanda demanded. It had to be Wanda-you could tell from her accent. "What do you want with Inertia?"

"We were sent by the Master." The woman in the red suit said, as if that made total sense. "We are here to collect the child. The Master commands it, and so it shall be."

"I've heard enough." Romanoff growled, and there was a click. I craned my neck to see what had happened, but nobody had moved.

"What was that?" I asked.

Clint frowned. "It sounds like her gun isn't working...but she just checked it yesterday, something must be up."

"Leave this place," Thor's voice came over Clint's speaker. "You are not welcome here. And if you think we are going to hand over Inertia, then you are wrong. She is one of us."

"Can we have her if we level this place?" The woman in red said sweetly. "If we burn this building to the ground and kill you all, we will collect the child. You might as well hand her over now and save the trouble."

For a minute, I was scared they would do it. I was new here, there was no way they would risk everything for me. But then Wanda hissed, and the woman and teenage boy were thrown backward with a blast of red-purple light. "Leave, and don't come back!"

"Why are we letting them leave?" I demanded. "Shouldn't we be arresting them, or something?"

"No," Clint said. "I shot a tracker arrow onto their plane the minute they landed. We _want_ them to leave."

"So we can follow them back to this Master guy!" I grinned. "Cool!"

As the plane took off and shot away, we climbed down off the roof. "Guys, meet Rory and I in the briefing room." Clint said, tapping his ear piece. We trooped down the stairs to the briefing room, which I hadn't been in before. There was a long stainless-steel table and black chairs, and a large screen on one wall. Sitting in a chair with his feet propped up was Stark, who had the screen trolling the web.

"Find anything yet?" Romanoff asked. He shook his head.

"Haven't found any mentions of these Collector guys, or this Master. I mean, other then the Collectors from the _Lost Room_ …"

"Wait," I protested. "You were here the whole time? What if they had needed help?"

"They had that." Stark said, the articles on the screen now flying past in a blur. "Look, it'll take a while to find anything on the Collectors."

"You mean none of you know anything about the Collectors at all? And you didn't even get the names of those people?"

"All they would tell us were code names. The woman was Snitch, and she said the boy was Copper. Didn't really catch what their powers were, though." Wanda said.

"But why were the Collectors here for me? How did they even know I'd be here?" I asked. None of them had any answers.

I had a bad feeling about this.

 **AN: Okay, so I did get some ideas from the Lost Room, because I re-watched all of those :) Please leave a review/follow/favorite.**


	9. Silent Heights

**AN: I don't own the Avengers (though if my fairy godmother comes through, I soon will). Please leave a review/follow/favorite.**

 _ **To Guest**_ **: (hopefully you know who you are) Rory isn't sure the limit of her power, but so far she can only use it on herself. She might be able to affect other people or objects in dire situations.**

The next two days were a blur of training. Stark had JARVIS automatically searching the entire internet, but so far he hadn't found anything about the Collectors or the Master, or Snitch and Copper. Steve and Bruce were combing through old newspapers, hoping for any information that hadn't made it online. Though that seemed unlikely to me, but Steve didn't seem to trust the internet.

I trained with Wanda and Romanoff, and sometimes Thor or Clint. Romanoff was trying to teach boxing. I had a lot of experience hitting people-I had grown up in a bad neighborhood of New York City, of course I could take care of myself. But Romanoff wasn't satisfied. She made me hit the punching bag until my knuckles turned red.

Wanda and Thor helped me learn to use my gravity control in combat. I shot through obstacle courses and slammed into dummies. Wanda even tried to help me affect people other then me with my gravity control, but so far it didn't look like I could do it.

Clint helped me with my specially-made grenades. Stark had built them for me-a special kind set off huge flashes of light, another fire, a couple let out a huge bang that made my ears ring for hours. There were others, too-but I probably shouldn't put them all down, just in case the Collectors ever got their hands on these papers.

We all knew why they were training me so hard. The Collectors had come for me, so they would be back and this time they would be ready. And we couldn't go after the tracker Clint planted on the helicopter. There was some sort of interference that made it short out. Which annoyed everyone. A lot.

Day three after the Snitch and Copper incident, Stark finally found something.

"What is it, what is it?" I demanded, sliding into the briefing room on my scuffed sneakers. I also had jeans and my **NYC GIANTS** hoodie, with my short black hair in pigtails. I was ready for some action. "The Collectors?"

"No," Stark said, tapping a few things on the screen of his phone. An article popped up on the larger screen, with a few sections highlighted. "Just telling you about the upcoming dance recital." He rolled his eyes. "Yes of _course_ it's the Collectors, kid. Who else?"

"Just tell us what you've found." Steve said. I think he was annoyed because the internet beat his old-fashioned paper news.

"Okay, I went back about two years and found a mention of them. Several super-powered operatives were caught trying to break into the Silent Heights Penitentiary."

It was all I could do not to gasp. SHP was where my brother had been imprisoned for six years, and would be for four more. I tried to keep my face calm. I couldn't be freaking out right now.

"They were arrested, but they wouldn't tell who they were working with and who they were trying to bust out. All they would say was that the Master had promised rewards, and that they worked for the Collectors."

"So… all you found is another article about how we know nothing?" Clint asked. "Yeah, really helpful, Stark. You deserve an award."

"Shut up. Those guys are still locked up in Silent Heights. We can go ask a few questions. I mean," Stark grinned cheekily. "I _am_ the great Tony Stark."

This time I couldn't help it. At the name Silent Heights I gave a wince. Wanda shot me a worried glance. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," I lied. If I went to Silent Heights, what if I saw my brother by accident? What if he saw me? What if he tried to talk to me? I was not okay. "Just not sure that's a good idea."

"It's a great idea!" Stark scoffed. "It was mine, so it must be great. Suit up, we're heading out."

I didn't really have to suit up-my suit was just normal clothes. I thought I at least deserved a bullet-proof jacket or a cool helmet or something, but no, normal clothes.

I wished Demitra was coming with us to Silent Heights. She would know right away what was wrong, and grab my hand to steer me through if I freaked out. She would calm me down and reassure me and even crack a joke to cheer me up. I hadn't seen Demitra in so long… I missed her a lot. She was a great best friend.

I met the other Avengers on the roof. "Are you ready to go?" Wanda asked. I nodded.

"I'm good." I patted my messenger bag-it was full of my grenades. The bag banged against my hip when I walked, but it looked casual so nobody suspected it was full of weapons.

We climbed into the plane and slipped into a long awkward silence. It was suffocating-I think if I hadn't piped up we would all have died from pure awkwardness. I'm pretty sure that's possible.

"What're the names of the guys we're going to see?" I asked.

Stark glanced at a scrap of paper in his metal-gloved hand. "Portal and Transfix is what they told the cops-I guess Transfix's power is that everybody stares at her?"

"Or maybe she stares at stuff." I shrugged. "She sounds weird. But seriously, we at least know their powers, right?"

"We know that Portal makes doorways, portals if you will, into adjacent rooms." JARVIS's british accent said politely over the speakers of the plane. I jumped. I sometimes forgot that JARVIS could hear us. It was almost creepy. I wondered if he had cameras, if he could see us too. "The police are not aware of Tranfix's abilities."

"So we could be walking into a trap." Bruce said, voice annoyingly calm. "Why are we doing this, again?"

"Because the Collectors came for Rory!" Wanda said, frowning at him. "We have to find out all we can about them and the Master."

"I've been thinking," Clint said suddenly from the pilot's seat. "What were Copper and Snitch's powers? They never used them."

"I think they did," Steve said, and we all stared at him. He glanced up from his book and explained. "Romanoff's gun didn't fire because the copper blasting cap disappeared, right? Well his name _is_ Copper. He probably had some sort of control over copper. And Snitch-did you notice how she heard stuff she couldn't have? She probably had some sort of super hearing."

"Everyone from the Collectors seem to have really stupid powers so far." I frowned. "Why would all the people with weird powers work together to kidnap me? It makes no sense."

"That's what we're going to find out." Romanoff said. I tried not to see that as foreshadowing.

Silent Heights Penitentiary is a large stone building in the shape of a square with a smaller square cut out of the middle. That's the prison yard, where the prisoners go for an hour every day to get exercise. Four lookout towers were positioned about twenty yards from each of the four corners of the building, watching for any possibly escaping prisoners. The whole place gave me the creeps.

We landed on the roof, which we were in trouble for until Stark handed the security guys three hundred dollars and Steve's SHIELD badge, and they let us in. We walked down the unpleasant-smelling stone stairways and the narrow halls.

We were led through the prison to a set of stairs going further down. "These cells had to be specially made." The large guard escorting us said. He had a few gray hairs left on his bald head, a blue hat with his badge on the chest of his uniform, and a lined but alert face. "Portal's abilities let him move to adjacent rooms, so we had to make sure that his room was the only one on his level. He can't go up or down."

We walked into an elevator, and the guard, who's badge said **HELLO! MY NAME IS SAL** in big letters. "We don't know if Transfix can do anything like that, but better safe then sorry." Instead of an array of buttons on the wall of the elevator, there was a single keyhole. Sal stuck a key in and turned it, and the elevator moved down with a lurch.

Then the elevator doors open and we were led down another hallway to two iron doors.

Written on one was **TRANSFIX** and the other read **PORTAL**. "Which one do you want to talk to, first?" Sal asked, glancing at us.

"Transfix." Stark said right away. I think we were all hoping for a chance to figure out Transfix's power. Sal nodded and typed a pin code into the keypad built into Transfix's door. There was a beep, and the door opened.

The room inside was large and there was a glass barrier going down the middle with holes in it. A single chair sat on our side, and on the other side was a cell. There was a cot, a chair, a sink and toilet, and a desk with shelves. It actually didn't look as bad as I had pictured-a tiny cell with a metal bed and a dozen scratches on the wall marking the days.

I let the adults go in first, and then walked behind them. I tried not to worry when Sal closed the door behind us and locked it from the outside. I hid behind the adults and peaked over Wanda's shoulder to see Transfix.

Sitting at the desk on the cell side was a young to middle-aged woman in an orange jumpsuit. Her short blond hair stuck up, and there were three piercings in her left ear. She had a tattoo of a rose on her neck and a snake wrapping around her right ear. Her face was pale, and she had dark eyes. She wasn't particularly transfixing.

"Bout time." Transfix said loudly, almost making me jump. She tilted her chair back and put her feet up on the desk. "I wondered when they would send in the acting troupe. Unless you think I'm allergic to spandex, you're not very intimidating. And I won't tell anything about the Master."

"Actually, I think you will." Romanoff said. "We already know everything we need to to capture your "Master", and evidence to put him away for a very long time. If you confess to it all now, the charges against you may be reconsidered."

I had to try not to grin. Romanoff was smart-if Transfix thought we already knew everything, she wouldn't try to hide things.

"You can't arrest the Master, yo!" Transfix yelled, suddenly angry. "The Collectors are the righteous! We will harness the power of the gods and destroy those who dare stand between the Master and his rightful place as ruler of humanity!"

"Yeah, have fun with that, princess." Stark said. "You're never getting out of this cell."

"I _will._ " Transfix snarled. "When we've collected them all. They will serve us whether they want to or not, and this world will be ours for the taking!"

"Okay," I grumbled before I could stop myself. "You're all kinds of crazy."

Transfix froze, the grin stuck on her face. Then she was scrambling over to the glass divider, pressing her hands and face against it, shouting, "The child! The child! She is here!"

"Oh, _." Clint groaned. "Not this one, too?"

"The child! The child! Let me see her!" It was me. Why did the Master's minions think I was so important? Sure I had cool powers, but I was a poor orphan from New York City. Why was I so important to them? Transfix looked like she might have a stroke. "The child! Come forward! Child!"

"Why are you searching for the child?" Wanda demanded. Great, now even Wanda was calling me the child! Thanks a lot evil minions of creepy cult leader dude. "What do you want with her?"

"I want nothing." Transfix said, still pressing against the bullet-proof glass like she would break through any minute. "The Master demands the child. The others go to the Collector's collection. The child must be brought to the Master. Whoever bring her to him will be given the greatests rewards and grandest prizes." Transfix's dark eyes widened with greed. "Come forward, child! At least let me see you!"

"Rory," Romanoff cautioned, but I stepped forward.

Transfix stared like she'd never seen a girl in a hoodie and pigtails before. "The Master… just as he said you would be…" Transfix mumbled. "Hair of midnight, eyes of storms, fears the fearless, turns the turned, fighting when she knows she'll lose, never bound to earth like you…." Transfix mumbled and rambled so that I couldn't understand the rest of her nonsense. But some of that, like the bit with the hair and the eyes, really did sound like me. How did the Master know what I looked like? Shivers ran up my spine, and I suddenly got the feeling I was being watched.

"If I'm this super-important child you're talking about," I called through the glass, and Transfix's head shot up. Her dark eyes looked shattered, frenzied. "Then will you answer my question?"

"Depends on the question." Transfix hissed.

I nodded, like that was the answer I had been hoping for. Though it wasn't.

"Okay, then answer this: why does the Master want me? What's so special about me?" I prayed that Transfix would tell me, even though I had never prayed before in my life, when I wasn't being forced by Mother Superior at the home.

"It's a secret!" Transfix cackled. She slid down the barrier, clutching her stomach and laughing. She rolled on the floor, struggling to breath for laughing. "Secret, secret, secret!" I glanced at the others. They were backing towards the door, and I did the same.

"Sal, open the door." Steve called through the door, and Sal opened it from the outside.

"No! Don't leave me! The secret!" Transfix screamed. I tried to ignore her, but you try ignoring a screaming insane super-powered criminal. It's very very hard.

We practically trampled each other to get out of the door. "She's lost it," Wanda muttered.

"That's assuming she had "it" in the first place." Stark grumbled.

"And that's debatable." Clint finished. But I couldn't get Transfix's screams out of my head as we rode the elevator back up. We had decided against talking to Portal. It would be a lot of the same stuff. And all I wanted was pizza and then to go to bed-I was scared. I admit it.

As the other Avengers climbed back into the plane, Wanda caught my arm. "Yeah?"

"This is where your brother is imprisoned, right?" She said in her heavy Russian accent. I nodded.

"Was I that obvious?"

"Maybe a little. Look, you should go see him." Wanda said. I shook my head and pulled away to climb onto the plane. "One day he'll be gone, and you'll regret that you didn't take this time." She said. "You only get once chance with brothers."

"I don't have a brother." I whispered. "He stopped being my brother a long time ago."

 **AN: thanks for reading! As always, please review or follow/favorite. See you next time, wonderful wonderful readers! You're all wonderful!**


	10. Homecoming

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. Please leave a review or follow/favorite this story.**

The flight back to the base was long and quiet. I stared at the wall of the plane, thinking about the things that Transfix had said. There was something bothering me-something nagging at the back of my mind. But I couldn't put my finger on it. It was something I should know but didn't.

We landed on the roof of the base, and I walked off of the plane ahead of all of the others. My thoughts buzzed around in my head, trying to get me to figure this out.

I needed to talk to someone. And not some adult I had met a week ago-I had to talk to my best friend.

"Stark, give me your phone." I said, turning to glare at him.

"But I need it to call Pepper!"

"I don't care! Give it!" I said, holding out my phone. He handed it over, grumbling under his breath. "Thanks."

I walked back to my room, closed the door, and collapsed on the bed. There were nervous butterflies in my stomach as I listened to it ring. Demitra didn't have her own cell phone, they were too expensive-so I would have to argue my way past the Mother Superior to talk to Demitra.

"Yes? Who is this?" Mother Superior's sharp voice bit into my ear.

"Rory King. I want to talk to Demitra Monroe, please." I said, praying that the stern tone of my own voice would convince Mother Superior to just let me talk to my best friend.

"You mean… you haven't heard?"

My blood froze. I could barely breath. "Haven't heard what?" But I felt like I was about to start dry heaving. Something had happened to Demitra. Something bad.

"She's gone." And for once the Mother Superior didn't sound angry. "She disappeared yesterday morning. All her things are still here, she didn't leave on her own. Then this morning, we received a note…."

"What did it say?" I demanded.

"I don't think I should tell you. It's none of your concern." There was the familiar sharp undertone to her voice. "It's time for you to go."

"No! She is my best friend! I have a right to know!" I hissed. "You've gotta tell me! C'mon… I've lived in your stupid home for years, can't you just read a note to me for once? I can help her!" I bit my tongue, expecting to be yelled at or hung up on, but instead the old woman's tone softened again.

"Alright. Just a minute." There was moving around on her end of the call, and then she said, "Here it is. It's; _We have Demitra Monroe. Inertia will come to us if she wants to see Demitra again. We can wait. Inertia will come. The place it was before._ Can you make heads or tails of that? I can't. I don't even know who "Inertia" is, and the police don't either."

I was trembling. I couldn't speak. The phone slipped out of my hand onto the bed, and I ignored Mother Superior's voice. I slowly stood up, walked out the door, and hurried down the hallway, still in a daze. I walked into the training room, where the other Avengers were laughing. When they saw the look on my face, they stopped.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked, looking worried.

I shook my head, struggling to focus. But it was almost impossible-I could barely think straight. She was gone and it was my fault. "They took her." I mumbled. "The Collectors took Demitra."

"Who's Demitra?" Steve asked.

"Demitra's my best friend." I said, finally pulling myself together. "The Collectors took Demitra to get to me. They left a note telling Inertia to go "the place it was before" to find her. But… I don't know what they're talking about."

"The place it was before sounds like whoever this Master is, he expects you to be able to figure out who he is." Romanoff said, frowning.

"Don't worry, we'll find your friend." Wanda assured me.

"But _how?_ " I groaned. "I don't know who it is! If I did I would tell you!"

"Could it not be your brother, the-"

"No! It couldn't be! He's still in jail, where he belongs." I snapped. "It couldn't be him."

"We don't know the powers of Portal and Transfix." Steve pointed out. "One of them could have used their powers to break him out. Or to make people think he was still in his cell when he'd really escaped."

"My brother does not have superpowers!" I said, trying very very hard not to scream. "He doesn't!"

"It's been years since you've seen him," Wanda said gently. "It's something we should check. Unless you can think of someone else that it could be?"

"No…" I sighed, giving in. "I can't."

It takes a half an hour for the guards at Silent Heights to check my brother's cell. It was like they could see him, but their hand went right through him, like he wasn't really there. Then he dissipated. Like a ghost.

"Some sort of hologram?" Romanoff asked, frowning a little. Except she's always frowning, so that's not saying much. "Or maybe Transfix is some sort of physic?"

"Probably." I shrug. "Does it matter? He's free. Again. And now he has superpowers. How great. My deranged murderer with superpowers that just kidnapped Demitra. But hey, at least it's not raining!"

"We'll find them." Bruce says. But he doesn't sound convinced. "But what is, "the place it was before"? That's where we'll find him, and where he must be keepin your friend."

For a minute I didn't know. But then I realized that there was only one place he could mean… the old house. Where we had lived until _it_ had happened. Dad's murder. Mom's death. The old house was the only place they could mean.

"I think I might know." I muttered. They gave me questioning looks. "Our house. Where we used to live. He… he might go there. _If_ this is about him. If."

"It has to be." Steve said. "He broke out, and it would explain why all of "the Master's" minions have been so fixated on you."

"When you say it like that, it sounds _really_ creepy, capsicle." Stark said, rolling his eyes. Steve went a little pink.

"So where did you guys live?" Wanda asked. "Let's go there and save your friend."

"Yeah." I muttered. "Let's."

 **Line Break**

My old house isn't the biggest, and it definitely isn't the nicest. And on the night my dad died, it stopped being my home. It's almost eerie to see it, now-almost the same. I can still perfectly picture my bedroom on the second floor as I stare at the house from the sidewalk, and old memories flash through my mind.

Leaning against my bedroom door and listening to my parents argue downstairs. Sitting in the kitchen and watching the door open, my brother being led inside by the police, because he'd gotten in trouble _again._ My dad sighing and giving me a weary smile. My mom sending me to bed early for getting in trouble at school again. And most set in my mind was standing at the top of the stairs, listening to my parents argue about what to do with me.

"She's a freak!" Mom would say. "She flies! We can't keep her!"

"She's our daughter, Matilda." Dad would say angrily. "She's not a freak."

"Rory _is_ a freak." My brother would chime in, glaring at me from where he sat at the bottom of the stairs. And I would listen in silence.

"Rory?" Wanda said, standing next to me on the sidewalk. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head a little to chase away the memories and then managed, "I'm fine." I started forward towards the front door of the house. Wanda, Romanoff, Steve, and Bruce.

The house was old and sagging. The patches of grass on the otherwise dirt front yard were scruffy and yellowing. The porch , which should've been a foot up, sagged so that it almost touched the ground. The paint had once been white, but was now gray and peeling. The second story leaned to the side a bit, and the windows were grimy. The screen door had been pulled off and leaned against the side of the house.

"Home sweet home." I sighed, looking up at the sagging house. I stepped onto the porch and stood on my tiptoes, feeling around on the roof. "They're still here." I pulled the spare key off the roof tiles and shoved it into the lock.

I had been dreading this moment. The inside of the house-so many bad memories hid here. I wanted to run for my life, but I knew that as his sister, it was my duty to bring the Master to justice. I hadn't visited him, hadn't checked on him-maybe if I had, he wouldn't have had the chance to escape.

The living room was empty of furniture, and covered in dust. The windows were smeared with dirt, and the lights didn't work. The stairs leading upstairs had had the carpet pulled off and the banister was cracked like it was about to fall. I could see the kitchen through the doorway on the other side of the living room. The tiles were cracked and one cabinet looked like it would fall from the wall at any moment.

"Nothing." I said bitterly. "We came here for _nothing._ "

"We have to check the whole house before we can be sure." Wanda said in her thick Russian accent.

"Guess so." I grumbled, taking a few more steps forward. I felt something tug at my foot and looked down. It was a tripwire. "Um, guys?" I said nervously. "I think I found something."

There was a beep, and then a metallic woman's voice said from who-knows-where; "Voiceprint confirmed. Identity: Rory King." There was a hiss like an airtight door was opening, and a large panel of the floor slid open. Stainless steel steps led downward. White fluorescent lights flickered on along the walls of the stairwell.

"Um…" I stared at it. "That definitely didn't used to be there."

"Should we go in?" Wanda asked, a little nervously.

"Of course, we should! Demitra might be in there!" Before any of the adults could stop me, I started down the stairs. I sprinted down them, and reached into my messenger bag, clutching a flash grenade in one hand. The stairs went down for what felt like forever, and I could hear the other Avengers following me in silence. When they finally levelled out, it was a long white hallway lit with fluorescent lights. There was only one doorway at the end.

"What is this place?" I asked quietly, keeping one finger on the pin so that I could throw the grenade at any moment. I walked through the hallway, towards the door at the end. It was bigger then a normal door, and made out of stainless steel spray-painted black. There was no handle, but instead a small unmarked metal pad set into the middle of the door. I reached out a hand to touch the metal.

"Don't touch-" Romanoff started to yell, but I touched the metal pad. There was a beep, a hum, and the door slid open.

" _Thumbprint recognized. Rory King, please enter._ " The same metallic woman's voice that we had heard earlier said. I stared into the room beyond.

It was large and made of concrete. We all walked in, hands on our weapons. As soon as Wanda, the last inside, stepped past the threshold, the door slid shut with a beep. "No!" Her eyes flashed pink, but the door didn't budge. Wanda looked shocked. "It didn't work. It's… immune to my power. We're trapped."

" _Voiceprint confirmed: Scarlet Witch. Wanda Maximoff, welcome._ " The woman's voice came again. This time I spotted a speaker on the ceiling. A holographic image flickered to life in the middle of the room, of a woman's face. It was… Marilyn Monroe?

"There's a dead actress holding us prisoner." I grumbled. "Just when I thought this couldn't get better. The Monroe hologram's lips moved, and the metallic voice came again.

" _I am not really Marilyn Monroe. This is just the appearance I was programmed with. I am Vinci. And I serve the Master of the Collectors. You will be good additions to the Master's collection."_

"What do you mean? What collection?" Steve demanded.

Vinci said, " _Voiceprint confirmed: Captain America. Steven Rogers, welcome."_

Behind me, Bruce was taking deep breaths. I hoped he didn't transform into the other guy in this underground room. That would be bad. Romanoff set a hand on his arm, which seemed to calm him down a bit, but I was still nervous.

"Damn, that's creepy. Could you stop with that?" I asked, deciding to treat Vinci like she was an actual person to make her seem less creepy.

" _The Master has instructed me to make you comfortable, Miss King._ " Vinci said. I felt like I would be sick. How she called him the Master like that was right. He was evil. She must be as well. " _But I also have orders to bring your companions to the Master for collection. Please be seated._ "

"Um, why?" I asked, hoping it wasn't for the reason I thought it might be.

" _So that you are not injured when you fall after I knock you out. Please be seated."_ Vents on the walls suddenly opened, and pale green mist started tumbling into the room. I pulled my hoodie up over my mouth, trying not to breath in the gas, but it was no use. Wanda and Steve tried to pry open the door, but my head was swimming.

I fell over, and someone said my name, but their voice was as slurred as I knew mine would be if I tried to speak. I heard thumps as the others succumbed to the gas.

The last thing I remember before everything turned black was Vinci's voice.

" _Sleep now, Ms. King. It will all be clear soon."_

 **AN: thanks for reading, everybody! A big thanks to everybody who's ever review or follow/favorited any of my stories, because I don't thank you guys enough. It always makes my day. If you haven't already, please do. See you all next time!**


	11. The villain monologues

**AN: I don't own the Avengers.**

My heartbeat pounded in my head when I woke up. Like there was a sledgehammer inside my skull, beating away with a steady rhythm. My mouth felt like sandpaper, and my eyes stung even though they were closed.

Around me there was silence and darkness. I lay there for a long time, not wanting to open my eyes and see what was going on outside my bubble of serenity.

Then there was a sound like a door opening and slamming shut, and a thud next to me. Footsteps. A grunt of pain, and a creak.

Then a voice that I recognized said, "Is she alright?" Someone's fingers pressed against my neck, checking for a pulse. My eyes flew open, and I tried to sit up, making the pounding in my head came louder. My vision blurred and then sharpened. Wanda, Romanoff, and Steve were there, too, and Wanda was kneeling next to me.

"Where-" I croaked.

"We're in the Collector's base." Romanoff said. "We woke up before you, probably because you're smaller. They gassed us."

"That sucks." I mumbled, sitting up and leaning against the wall of our cell. It was about seven by eight, large enough for the four of us, and was made of more stainless steel. The door was as well, and there were no windows. The warped reflections on the metal floor, walls, and ceiling made my head hurt worse, the room only lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling by a wire. "Where's Bruce?"  
"He's in a different cell." Wanda said, leaning against the wall next to me. "Specially made so he can't escape. And these walls are enchanted-my magic has no effect on them."

"Then how do we get out?" I demanded. "We can't stay here. I have to rescue Demitra from my brother."

"We will." Steve said. "The Master's goons said they'd be back for us in an hour or so. We can talk to the Master and take him down. Then we can hold him hostage so his people will let us out."

"Will that work?" I ask, rubbing the back of my head. I have to get rid of my headache to focus.

"It's the only plan we've got, so it will." Romanoff said. Probably the only time I've ever heard her be positive.

"Great." I murmured. "So our best plan is to attack when we're surrounded by guards?"

Nobody said anything. We sat in silence until the door opened again and bright blinding light spilled into the dimly lit cell. Someone grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet roughly. I was shoved into the hallway, and I heard Steve say something angrily.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the hallway, I could see that it's the same white linoleum and eggshell white walls of the hallway under my old house. The bright fluorescents on the ceiling were bright, so that I had trouble seeing the faces of the people we walked past.

Some of the people we passed pointed at me, or laughed, or elbowed each other and murmured nervously. I tried to glare at them even though I couldn't see them clearly. My vision adjusted more and more as I walked, so that I could see the people around me.

The two men that dragged me by my arms weren't much to look at. One was muscly with tangled black hair and wore a biker's jacket, and the other was gangly and bald, and around thirty.

The people we walked past are all different-all from different places, different styles of hair and dress. Some of them talked in other languages or had words on their shirts that I didn't recognize. Their clothes were dirty and torn, and they all looked ragged and weary. But they laughed and catcalled when they saw me. The guards hands bit painfully into my arms as they dragged me along.

I can hear the other Avengers walking behind me, and as my head finally stops pounding we're lead into a large room.

It's drastically different from the rest of the Master's buildings so far. The white tile and stainless steel are gone.

Instead, the floor is black marble, shining perfectly so that I can see my reflection when I look down. I'm not looking good. The walls are large concrete blocks, covered in pictures. The pictures are painted in spray paint, but it's not graffiti or tagging-it looks almost like a history.

One scene shows three men in togas standing in a circle, and a ball of bright light hangs between them. Turned away from the men is another man, who holds a tiny flicker of light in his hands. Another shows a young girl standing before a man that looks like Fury, holding up her hands, which are glowing green. There's a picture of a teenage boy sitting on the edge of a roof, playing the guitar and watching a party far below, and another is of a school-age girl being taunted by the other kids.

The back wall of the room is made of obsidian, and painted on it in white are dozens of names; _rocket pack, gangrene, googleplex, spice, fiddler_. I even spot _portal_ and _transfix_ , and _snitch_ and _copper_ on the wall. The names cover almost all of the wall, though some have been crossed out.

There's a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and a red velvet carpet leads us towards the throne in the middle of the room. The throne is made of obsidian, with gold patterns in it. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Or it would be, if it weren't for the boy sitting in it.

Technically he's not a boy. He's a young man, but I'll always remember the little boy he used to be. He's tall and strong-looking, and wears a studded black trench coat. Underneath is black skinny jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and two glock 22's strapped to his belt. He wears a black top hat and blue-and-white converse, and he's lounging on his throne casually.

His shaggy black hair goes just below his ears, almost touching his shoulders. There's a five o'clock shadow on his chin and cheeks, and his eyes are a dark stormy gray. He's handsome, there's no doubt about it, but there's something about him that makes him seem almost frightening. It's not the scar on his cheek, or the tattoos of teardrops under his eye, or the three piercings in the top of his right ear-it's the way his eyes look at you. Like he knows all your secrets and you're already beaten, and he's just waiting for you to figure it out.

He's my brother. He had a name once, but he doesn't deserve it anymore. His name now is the Master, but I will never bow to him.

The guards drag me roughly forward, ahead of the other Avengers who stay by the door. The doors, by the way, are made of steel, and have already slammed shut behind us. It's just the Avengers, our guards, and _him._

I want to attack him. I want to punch that smile right off his face. I want to hurt him so badly I'm scared of myself-he helped kill my dad. He tried to kill me. He's my brother and I hate him and he's evil and I wish that he was dead.

The guards shove me forward onto my knees in front of his throne.

"Hey, hey." He says, waving his hand a little at the guards. "Be nice. She's the special one. The one we've been looking for." His eyes are fixed on me, almost hungrily, the way I imagine a vampire looking at its next meal. He motioned for the guards to step away from me, and they did. The other Avengers stood waiting at the closed entrance to the hall, flanked by guards. "Hello, Rosalind. Do you like the new hideout?" He asked sweetly.

"Don't call me that." I hissed, standing up and balling my hands into fists. He was almost a foot taller then me. "Don't say my name."

"But you're my sister!" He laughed. "I have to say your name. Or I will until we find you a cover name that sticks. Mine's _The Master_."

"You might be the master of these people." I snapped. "But you are not the master of me. You can't hurt me-I have powers, and you don't."

"Oh, Rosalind." The Master tutted, stepping down from his throne to stand in front of me. I tried not to be intimidated. "You never _could_ take me into a fight."

"I'm not a kid anymore!" I screamed, and made his throne pull me towards it. I turned so that I slammed my feet into the Master's stomach, pinning him to his throne.

The Avengers knew the plan. There was the sounds of fighting behind me, but the Master's guards had powers. Romanoff was caught in a giant bubble, Steve fell over and started snoring, and Wanda was suddenly wrapped in duct tape. But my brother was still at my mercy-I expected him to waver, but instead he threw his head back and laughed.

"Rosalind, you always were a naive fool." He held up a hand, and an invisible force grabbed my shoulders and yanked me back, forcing me to return gravity to normal. The force lifted me up off the ground and held me there, struggling. The Master held his hand up in front of him, clearly controlling whatever was holding me up. "Let's think of cover names, shall we? What is it _mom and dad_ used to call you? Oh, that's right… _freak!_ "

I was thrown sideways by the invisible force and slammed into the wall. I twisted so my head didn't hit, but I knew my side would bruise. I slid to the floor, stumbling but landing on my feet. I tried to fight, but something caught my legs and I was tossed against the opposite wall even harder.

" _Monster!_ " I was slammed into the floor. " _Urchin! Mistake! Demon child!_ " The invisible force lifted me up by the neck. I gasped for breath, clawing at the invisible hand around my throat, but it was strangling me.

"Put her down!" Steve yelled, apparently awake again. He was put in a bubble as well.

"Don't hurt her!" Wanda shouted, also from inside a bubble. The bubbles were large enough for the Avengers to stand in, if a little bent over, and were translucent pink.

"Don't worry," The Master said. "Can't I just play with my little sister?"

"I'm not-you're not-" I tried to speak, but all I could to was claw at whatever was constricting around my neck, trying desperately to free myself. The Master unclenched his fist, and the force disappeared. I fell six feet onto my side, clutching my neck and gasping for breath.

"What were you saying, Rosalind?" The Master asked, sneering.

"You… are not… my brother." I managed.

"I'm hurt!" The Master said, holding his hands to his heart in mockery. "And I was so looking forward to the reunion. Now come now, Rosalind, let's be civil."

I wanted to point out that he was the only one not being civil, but I kept my mouth shut. I couldn't stand. A guard hurried forward and pulled me up. Then he dropped me, and I winced in preparation for hitting the floor, but a sofa appeared underneath me. I gave the guy a puzzled look, and he went red.

"I make furniture appear…" He muttered, hurrying back to the other Avengers.

Steve, Wanda, and Natasha (all three in their bubbles) were rolled forward to sit around me so that they could see the Master.

"Now then, Rosalind. I know you, I know you have questions. Ask them."

"Where are we?" I blurted out.

"We are in the Collectors headquarters."

"Where's the Collectors headquarters?" Wanda demanded. She sounded angry.

The Master just tapped the side of his nose with one hand. "Oh, this question business is tedious. You aren't asking anything fun. I'll just explain things, shall I? I am the leader and founder of the Collectors." The Master pressed a button on the arm of his chair, and the back wall, the one with all the names carved in it, started to slid down into the floor. Beyond was an even larger space, but it was too dark to see what was inside. "The Collectors have one sole purpose;" He tapped another button, and the room beyond was suddenly clearly lit.

It was really more of a hallway, made of white marble, and lining the walls on both sides as far as I could see was gigantic jars. They were stacked two high, and each was about eight feet tall and six feet in diameter. They were all filled with a clear bluish liquid, and glowed slightly.

But the bad part? The truly horrendous frightening awful part that finally told me why they were called the Collectors?

The jars each had a person in them. An unconscious person with tubes connected to their arms and breathing masks on their faces, all suspended in the blue liquid.

"And that purpose is equality."

I spotted only a few I knew from the news or even around the SHIELD base, but mostly those I didn't recognize. There were people with agent of SHIELD badges, people in HYDRA uniforms, people in capes and masks, people in fancy suits and evening wear and jewels. They were all floating there peacefully.

We were led into the hallway, while the Master talked. I couldn't take my eyes off of the people as we passed them. Some couldn't be over twenty. Some were in their late nineties, and most were in between.

"For centuries, people with power have abused that power, and treated the people without power badly. Corrupt politicians and failing governments, entire countries in debt. People living in lavish mansions with their name written on the side while others are starving on the streets!" The Master said, leading us past rows and rows of people.

"What are we to do, though? The only thing we can do to fix things. Take the powerful people off the board _entirely._ "

"Are these people _dead?_ " I gasped. It hadn't even occurred to me before whether or not they were still alive. I had just kind of assumed…

"Of course! We're not barbaric! We go to a great deal of trouble to keep them alive. Some of them we may use as bargaining chips to take over governments, others we might use to for the company production of _the Matrix._ Some are trophies." The Master, who had been walking ahead of us, turned back to face us with a sickening sneer. "Welcome to the Collection."

We walked a bit farther and soon we were walking past empty jars. There were a few people here and there, but mostly we had left the Collection behind us. Then we reached a door which swung easily open into a large room. Set against the back wall was another set of jars.

"So it occurred to me; who has more power then superheroes? That's the definition of power. And who's the mightiest of earth's heroes?" The Master sneered again. "The Avengers! And then I found out that little sis had joined you. It was like a sign! I had to add you all to the Collection! All except you, Rosalind. You're going to be ruling the new world at my side."

I felt like I was about to puke. My brother had officially lost it. He was nuts. Absolutely and totally insane.

"And to make sure you complied with what I want..." The Master pressed a button on a metal bracelet on his wrist that I hadn't noticed before. A section of the floor opened, and another large jar slid up with a hiss.

This jar didn't have the blue liquid in it. It was clear, and the girl inside was awake. She had dark skin and long inky black hair in braids, and she wore a red-white-and-black school uniform and converse. It was Demitra.

Demitra scrambled over to the side of the jar and pounded on the glass wildly, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

"Mitra!" I yelled, and leapt up. The Master and his goons didn't stop me from pounding on the glass of the jar as well. Demitra and I couldn't break it. Finally she pressed her hand against the glass, and I did as well, over hers. I wouldn't cry here, I promised myself. I wouldn't.

"You're crazy," I said. The other Avengers were clearly trying to talk, but I couldn't hear them through the bubble. "Nobody will follow you. You're holding these people prisoner, not making equality! Let my friend go, she has nothing to do with this!"

"Oh, Rosalind. Always the fool. People are already following me. Everyone in this facility agrees with my plan." The Master sneers and motions his hands around, gesturing to everything.

"Then you're _all_ crazy!"

"Equality, even among the community with superpowers, is rare. My top agents and guards here have powers, but Fury laughed when they tried to join SHIELD! Didn't even think them worthy of the index! He would never have made one of _us_ an Avenger, and you're no more powerful then me!"

"This isn't the right way! You have to let Demitra and the rest of the people you've kidnapped go!"

"Actually, Rosalind," The Master said silkily. He caught my chin with one hand and forced me to look into his eyes. They were so much like mine it almost hurt. I wanted to punch him, but I was barely standing and two guards were holding my arms behind my back. "I really really don't." He let go of my chin and started to walk back towards his throne room. The rest of us were pulled along.

I fought to get back to Demitra as she attempted again to smash through the jar, screaming. I knew she was screaming because I saw it on her face, but I couldn't hear her. I kicked and fought, but I was pulled out of the room into the Collection and the door slid shut. I whirled on the Master.

"How can you talk about equality? I bet you're lying to your followers! Do they know your real name? Do they know why you were in prison? What you _did_?" I shout after him. The guards exchange a nervous glance. He hasn't told them. "Do they know you're a murderer? A killer? A criminal that should rot away in a cell for the horrible thing you did?" I screamed, and this time the Master spun around to face me, his expression a mask of rage.

"The insurance money should've let us keep the house. And I never did like father much."

"You're a monster!" I screamed and this time I managed to kick him between the legs. He grimaced in pain, but raised a hand. The invisible force wrapped around me and yanked me off the ground. I yelled and tried to break free, but my brothers telekinesis was too strong. "Put me down!"

"Are you sure you want me to?" The Master asked, lifting me a bit higher.

"Yes!" I shouted. I knew what was coming, and carefully positioned myself to land on my feet. "Put me down right now!"

"Okay." The Master dropped me, and I fell to the floor. Just before I hit, I lessened gravity so I floated a few inches above the ground. Then I felt the pull of the throne again and tackled my brother as I fell sideways towards it.

There was a _crack_ as we slammed into it, a jumble of arms and legs, and the entire back of the throne got a huge crack in it. The Master screamed in pain, but I wouldn't let him up, even though my whole body throbbed. I punched him in the face and he screamed again. I punched him again and felt his nose break, but then I was being yanked back by two guards. I shot up to the ceiling and they lost their grip on my arms.

I landed and punched the Master again and again, until his telekinesis ripped me back and made me hang in the air helplessly. I screamed in rage and swore at him, but he only laughed, wiping blood off his face.

He truly was insane.

 **AN: Hi, thanks for reading. I know that chapter was kind of creepy, but I wanted to write more about the Master and have him explain things. Please leave a review or follow/favorite.**


	12. Nightmares and the machine

**AN: I don't own marvel, especially not the Avengers. Also, I am sorry it's been so long since I've updated! When I was on chapter 4 I wrote down the plot for the entire story, but then I forgot where I put that paper and couldn't remember how I wanted this to go, so I winged it up until now. But I found the plot plan! Yes! So now I can get around to writing again. Please review or follow/favorite.**

The Master had sent us back to our cells, telling us to rest and that he would come back for us in the morning so we could, and I quote, "finish this". I told him to bleep off and that he was stupid and crazy, and that the rest of the Avengers would already be looking for us.

He told us that one of his followers had hacked into a SHIELD database and made it look like Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, and I were all on a mission in Brazil. The rest of the Avengers might go another week before they began wondering why we weren't back from our "mission" yet, and longer until they really started looking. By then it would be too late to help us.

We were left in the same cell we had been in earlier. I was limping, even though I was trying to hide that I had been injured when the Master had tossed me around. They shouted at the guards for me to be allowed to see Bruce so he could treat my injuries, but were finally silenced when a guard shoved in a first aid kit.

I was bruised and scraped and I had a headache, but I would be okay. Wanda helped me wrap my sore shoulder with an ace bandage.

I was exhausted. This had been one of the worst days of my life, and I had had some pretty crappy ones. I fell asleep on the bench, with the older Avengers standing by me, like guards.

That night, I had terrible nightmares.

I dreamed that I was in one of my brother's jars, and I was pounding on the glass, trying to break it. Standing around on the outside were the Avengers, laughing and chatting with the Avengers. They ignored me as I screamed and pleaded for help. The jar started filling with the slightly glowing bluish liquid, swirling around my feet.

"Help me!" I screamed. This time the Avengers saw me, and all turned towards me. Instead of helping, they laughed behind their hands and pointed at me. I screamed and fought as the blue liquid rose up over my knees, my hips, and my shoulders. I tried to swim to keep my head in the air, but my feet were stuck to the bottom of the jar.

The liquid covered my nose and mouth, and I screamed, seeing only bubbles. I could hear laughter, and I knew that I was drowning.

Then everything disappeared and suddenly I was being led down the hallway by faceless guards. I didn't bother trying to fight, and they pushed me through a door into a cell.

Lying on the floor of the cell was Demitra, but she was dead. I knew she was-her eyes were glassy and didn't fix on anything. She lay on the bench like sleeping beauty, her face relaxed and her inky black hair spreading out around her head like a halo. She rested with her hands folded on her chest, and she wore her school uniform. But a knife protruded from her stomach, and blood stained her sweater.

I screamed and sobbed, yanking out the bloody knife and throwing it down onto the floor angrily. I hugged Demitra, praying that she would wake up, but she didn't. The Master's cruel laughter echoed in my ears.

Now I stood in a grassy field. Hot sunlight beat down on me, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and birds chirped somewhere. All the Avengers stood around me, and Demitra stood by my side. She smiled at me, and took my hand.

"Your a freak, Rory." She said, but her voice sounded like the Master's. I yanked my hand away.

"You're a monster." Wanda said in the Master's voice.

"Mom and dad were right-you should never have been born," Tony said hollowly.

I screamed as my feet were yanked down into the ground. I was pulled down as I fought to stay up, my friends chanting insults in the voice of my brother. The ground closed over my head, and the image of my own gravestone flashed through my mind.

"Rory?" This time it was Steve's voice, and he sounded worried. "Rory, you're having a nightmare. Wake up." Someone shook my shoulder.

My eyes opened blearily. It was Steve, crouched next to me with a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm okay…." I said blearily. "Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

"The Master's followers will be back soon anyway," Steve said, giving me another sideways glance. He sat down leaning against the wall beside the bench I was laying on. "Don't worry, Rory. We're going to rescue Demitra and get out of here."

I nodded and closed my eyes again, feeling a little better. Steve sat next to me, and he reminded me of my dad. When I was a kid and I had a nightmare, dad would make me hot cocoa and sit by my bed until I went back to sleep.

The next thing I knew, the door of the cell was opening, and Steve was softly shaking me awake. "Breakfast," He said.

Breakfast was unbuttered toast and cold scrambled eggs, and a plastic bottle of water that all four of us had to share. I wondered if Bruce was getting better food in his special cell. A half-hour later, the door opened again. This time it was guards who dragged us into the hallway.

I was pushed along in front just like yesterday, but the hallway twisted in a different direction then it had before. We were dragged into a large room that I didn't know.

The room was made of concrete, and there were long tables pushed up against the walls with computers, blueprints, tools, televisions, machines, and breath mints stacked on them. In the middle of the room was a tall round platform made of stainless steel spray-painted white. A metal dentists chair sat in the middle of the platform, with dozens of large metal tubes connecting the chair to open panels on the sides of the platform, which must be one huge machine. Computer banks and complicated machinery formed a U around the chair, built into the white platform.

The Master stood on the platform with his hands behind his back. He turned and gave a creepy smile when he saw us.

"Good morning. Sleep well?" He smiled like he knew the answer.

"Yes, no thanks to you." I snapped.

"What is that machine?" Steve demanded. "What does it do?"  
"It is going to equalize the human race." The Master said. "Vinci, the presentation!"

" _Right away, Master."_ Vinci's voice came from the ceiling, making me jump. I had forgotten entirely about the AI. The largest flat screen TV on one of the tables flipped on, showing a map of the world.

"Our Collection takes too long to expand. We need to go full-scale, but the DNA analysis…" The Master shook his head.

"Blueprint! Explain the machine! Where is Blueprint?"

The door of the lab opened, and a young woman stumbled in. She was tall and curvy, and wore a long white lab coat, jeans, and a faded blue t-shirt. She had a pale narrow face and big dark eyes under large black plastic glasses, and curly dark brown hair tied in a ponytail. She was clutching notebooks and papers, and looked surprised to see us in her lab.

"Blueprint, explain the Void Machine to our guests." The Master commanded.

"Um, yessir." The young woman, Blueprint, said with a nervous glance at the Master. She dumped her papers and notebooks on one of the tables, and turned to face us. "That chair and platform are called the Void Machine, or VM. They were built by, um, me, to put three thousand pre-programmed targets into a coma state at once."

"You can't do that," Wanda said, looking shocked. I was feeling roundabout as surprised as she looked.

"Actually, we can," Blueprint said, thinking Wanda meant the machine was impossible. She tapped a button on an iPad, and thousands of little red dots appeared on the map of the world on the large TV screen. "We have their DNA programmed in. However, it's not done yet. Right now, the VD requires an extremely specific type of DNA to function on our end. The Master and his younger sister are the only ones who would be able to activate it, but there's a risk that the user would be killed by the VD."

"I'm the little sister. Call me Rory," I said, waving at Blueprint.

"Oh. Hi." Blueprint said, looking a little surprised. "Anyway, if the VD was used by someone with your DNA would put these targets into a coma. It's the equivalent of putting them into one of my Stasis Jars."

"You built those?" I demanded.

"Um, yeah." Blueprint said nervously. She wouldn't make eye contact with any of us. "They put the person inside into a coma. They don't dream, don't need food or sleep…. and the Stasis Jar keeps their body exactly as it is. They age more slowly, and they can't be killed by any injury they had when they went in…." She didn't sound very excited.

"So you see, Rory, this is why I need you. You have to use the machine." The Master said, leering at me.

"But it could kill her!" Natasha protested. "She's not doing it."

"Are you forgetting…?" The Master pointed to another screen, and Vinci took that as her cue. The screen flicked on, and it showed a security feed of Demitra, in her jar. She was curled into a ball with her head resting on her arms, and her shoulders were shaking. "I could kill her right now, sister dear. You'll do as I tell you or your little friend will pay your debt."

I was seething with anger. He couldn't do that-I wouldn't let him, he wouldn't dare.

"If you _dare_ to hurt Demitra, I will stick a knife up your-"

"Language," Steve mumbled. *****

"Seriously?" Wanda snapped, glaring at him. He went a little pink.

"I'll give you some time to think it over." The Master said, running one fingernail under another. "You and your Avenger pals will go free. Demitra will stay. At noon tomorrow, you will return to the house, alone and unarmed. You will give yourself in and not fight when you are used in the machine. If you survive, you and Demitra will be freed."

"And if I don't show?" I snarled.

"Then Demitra will die, and I will kidnap you and make you do it. Oh, and Rory," The Master pointed at the screen with the map of the world, and it zoomed in on New York. The dots were labeled when it zoomed in, and I saw the names of the Avengers lined up with their dots. Well, all the Avengers that were in NYC. "The Avengers are all on our list. Just thought you might want to know, dear."

He smirked, knowing he had dealt a winning blow, and motioned with his hands for us to be dragged out of the room again.

We were led to a large room with a glass box in the middle of it. In the box was Bruce, who was silently meditating. When he noticed us he opened his eyes and banged a hand against the glass. We were shoved into the box by the guards, and the door was sealed behind us.

Before we could start explaining to Bruce what was going on, gas started seeping into the chamber. This time I didn't bother trying to fight is as I sank into unconsciousness.

I didn't know what to do. I had to choose between Demitra or the Avengers. My life was on the line, and their freedom. Plus thousands of other people around the world.

I didn't know what to do.

 **AN: Thanks for reading! I know this one didn't have much action in it, but I liked it. I will try to update more often in the future.**

 ***I couldn't resist the language joke! That might actually have been my favorite line from AoU :)**


	13. I don't know

**AN: I don't own marvel or the Avengers.**

I woke up in a white hospital bed. My head pounded just as hard as it had last time I had been gassed, and I felt like I might puke. The white sheets were too tight, and I could hear an annoying beeping from a heart monitor. There was an IV connected to my arm.

I sat up, remembering everything that had happened. Demitra. The Master. The Void Machine.

"Relax, Rory," Bruce said. He was sitting next to my bed, looking tired. "You're okay."

"Why… how did I get here… how come you woke up first?"

"The gas was highly concentrated. You're smaller then us, so it almost killed you. But you're okay… though you might feel nauseous."

He handed me a metal bowl just before I retched, and politely held my hair out of my face.

"Thanks," I mumbled, sinking back onto my pillows. He nodded.

The Avengers were good people. I hadn't known them long, but they were already the best people I knew, other then Demitra. I admit I haven't met a lot of good people, but they would be nice by anyones standards. Wanda had comforted me when I told her about my parents. Steve had been kind about my nightmares. Bruce had sat by my bed for who-knows-how-long, just so I wouldn't be alone and panicking and vomiting when I woke up.

"Feeling better?" He asked. I squinted at him.

"Is this what a hangover feels like?"

"Pretty much, yeah," He said with a small smile. "You've been out for seven hours. It's almost midnight. It only took a half-hour for people to start giving you stuff." He motioned to the foot of my bed, which was heaped with get-well cards, candy, and bouquets of flowers.

See what I mean about the Avengers being really nice? Even Stark had left a scrawled note; _Glad you aren't dead, kid! Get well soon! -Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist._

"Did the others tell you about what the Master said?" I asked. Bruce nodded. I closed my eyes, sinking into the pillows of the hospital bed. "What do you think I should do?"  
"I don't know." Bruce said honestly. "What you think is right."

"I don't know what's right!" I groaned. "My best friends life, or I have to put thousands of people into a coma! Including the Avengers, and I really like all you guys. I mean, I haven't known you super long, but you're already…." I trailed off, too embarrassed to say it.

"Like family?" Bruce filled in. I opened my eyes to raise an eyebrow at him.

"How'd you know?"

"We're a team. Most of us have lost a lot, or don't have a real family… the Avengers kind of becomes our family. Tony is the annoying uncle, Steve is the overprotective brother, Clint is the only mildly less annoying uncle…"

We both laughed.

"Hey! I heard that!" The door of my hospital room flew open, and the other Avengers filed in. Thor had to squeeze in last, but everyone fit (surprisingly).

"Feeling better, Inertia?"

I nodded. "Just dandy." I said, only slightly sarcastically.

"What do you think about the Master's choice?" Natasha asked, intimidating eyes scanning me. Thoroughly killing the mood, I might add.

"I dunno." I said, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "I'm supposed to meet him noon, tomorrow, right?"  
"It's actually today, now," Wanda said, checking her watch. "We can talk about this at a decent hour. But you need rest."

I was grateful as she herded everyone back to the door, but I didn't want to be alone. I was embarrassed to ask, but I knew if I was alone I would have nightmares.

"Um, actually," I said nervously. "Natasha, would you stay with me?" I wanted to ask Natasha for advice, and she also seemed like the one least likely to freak out if I started screaming in my sleep.

The red-haired woman looked back at me, a flicker of surprise on her face, but she nodded. She sat down quietly in Banner's vacant chair.

When the rest of the Avengers had closed my door, I closed my eyes. I was too embarrassed to ask while looking at her. "Do you think I should let her die?"

"Your friend, Demitra? I think you should do what's best for the most people."

"So don't help him."

"If that's how you interpret it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, opening my eyes curiously. "Do you think I can still save Demitra?"  
"I don't know," Natasha stared at the ceiling. "But I think you have to ask yourself one important question; which decision will you regret afterwards, and which will you not?"

There was a long moment of silence while I thought about that. "Thanks, Natasha." I said, and I meant it. I usually don't mean it when I thank people, but I also don't usually ask for advice from people. "Do you mind staying? I'll have nightmares if I'm alone."

She nodded. "I'll stay."

"Goodnight, Natasha." I mumbled, already feeling my eyelids grow heavy. I still didn't know what to do or what the right decision was, but I knew how to figure it out now. And I would be able to think better after a good sleep. Natasha nodded to me as a goodnight, and settled in on her chair.

I fell asleep, and was grateful when I had no nightmares.

 **AN: I've already decided what I want Rory to do, but I want to know what you guys think… please leave it in the reviews! If you haven't already, go ahead and follow/favorite. Thanks for reading, everybody.**


	14. From frying pan to fire

**AN: I don't own the Avengers.**

The next morning when I woke up, I was alone in the room again. I got up, no longer feeling sick, and found my way through the base to my room. I got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I didn't want to bother combing out my black hair, so I tied it in two small pigtails.

Then I went to find breakfast.

I had already decided what I was going to do, like my brain had put the pieces together in my head and found the solution to the problem while I slept. I knew what I was going to do, but that didn't make it any less scary.

The other Avengers were already in the kitchen when I got there, talking quietly. They stopped when I came in.

"Morning," I mumbled, waving a little as I fished a mountain dew out of the fridge.

"You're having that with breakfast?" Steve frowned.

"Yes, mom." I smirked, leaning against the counter. "Although you say that assuming that this isn't the entirety of my breakfast."

"You have to eat something healthy," Bruce scolded. "You're going to ruin your health."

"Sure, doc." I rolled my eyes. "I'll have lucky charms with my mountain dew."

"Rory, seriously, you should-"

"No." I snapped, feeling what was left of my control over my nerves singe away. "I might die today. I seriously might. All of you might go into a coma today and I would never see you again anyway because I would be dead. So I am having lucky charms and mountain dew for breakfast and anyone who argues is taking an unplanned swim in mountain dew. Okay?" I glared at all of them, daring someone to argue.

Nobody said anything. They were too busy staring at me.

"Great. M'kay. Sounds good. Can I have a beer?" I said, the idea suddenly popping into my head. Maybe this would be easier if I wasn't thinking clearly.  
"I've got wine, if you want-" Tony started to offer.

"No!" Steve interrupted. "You can't have a beer. Why would you even want one? You're fourteen."

"Just thought this might be easier if I was drunk. Never been drunk before so I wouldn't know, but Tony is hilarious when he's drunk so I figured…." I trailed off. "I need a ride to my old house."

"You're not going to die," Clint said. "And you aren't going."

"Um, isn't it sort of my own decision?" I said, raising an eyebrow. Bruce and Natasha, the only two I had asked about the decision I was to make, had both acted as if I could do what I pleased. But from the grim and apologetic looks on the Avenger's faces, something had changed.

"Fury called early this morning. He found out about the Master's offer-Fury has cameras everywhere. You're not to leave the facility… we're supposed to keep you here." Natasha said, and there was a hint of regret in her voice.

"You can't do that," I said. "I have a plan. I'm going to save you _and_ Demitra, you just have to trust me. Fury won't know!"

They didn't listen.

Some agents took me back to my room. I could've escaped but I wasn't in the mood to hurt anyone. So I got ready.

I changed into a black zip-up hoodie with the SHIELD logo on the back, a fitted camo t-shirt, black combat boots, and skinny jeans with brown patches on the knees. I looked pretty badass, if I do say so myself. I also found a black ski hat and yanked it on so my pigtails stuck out from underneath it.

Next I needed weapons. I clambered out my bedroom window and fell to the roof. I found the kitchen windows and fell to the sill, grateful that Tony never remembered to lock the windows. I climbed into the kitchen, and thankfully the other Avengers were gone. I found a kitchen knife and stuck it in my belt, and one of Romanoff's spare guns and slid it into my sleeve.

Then I climbed out the window again, landing lightly on the ground. I shot across the lawn, falling from one tree to another like a ping-pong ball. I knew that the black vans that came and went every day were parked by the gate, so I headed that way.

I was crouched behind a bush, trying to figure out whether or not I could drive a car if I could steal one, when the gates opened for a large truck with an open back to start to leave. The back of the truck was filled with crates, but there was no door and nobody was looking….

I ran forward and pulled myself onto the back of the truck, ducking behind the crates before the guards at the gate could spot me.

The drive from there to the city was long and tiring. It was also painful, because there were no seats and I kept bouncing on the metal every time the truck turned or hit a pothole. But the truck went in the general right direction. It took me to NYC, and from there I stowed aboard a bus that took me to the right neighborhood. I had to walk twenty-three blocks to get to my house, and by the time I got there it was past noon.

I walked in the front door and closed it behind me. My feet hurt. I was scared and tired and still just a little bit nauseous. I wasn't sure my plan would work and even if it did, I might die.

I might've actually turned and ran out of the house at that moment, but two burly guards all in black appeared out of nowhere (literally, nowhere) and grabbed me by the arms. They pulled a bag over my head (which was annoying and stupid) and the next thing I knew I was in a car. Then I was being pulled out of the car again and led down some stairs, through a few doors, along several hallways, and down a few more stairs.

Then the bag was being pulled off my head.

I was back in the large lab, with the Void Machine sitting smugly in the middle of it. There were about a dozen people here in white lab coats, and another dozen in the black uniform of the guards. Blueprint stood on the platform by the dentist-chair looking thing. The Master stood next to the platform, grinning smugly.

"I knew you would make the right decision, Rory." The Master said smugly. "But I thought I should make sure you don't make any rash decisions, so…" The door opened again, and a handcuffed Demitra was dragged inside.

"Mitra!" I exclaimed, trying to run towards her. The two guards on either side of my caught my arms and yanked me back painfully.

"Rory! What's going on? Where are we? Who are these people?" Demitra sobbed. I realized that she still had no idea what was going on. I winced. I probably should've thought of that earlier.

"It's gonna be okay, Mitra. I promise. I'm going to fix this," I said, wishing I was sure of my own words. The guard to my right twisted my arm upward painfully, and pulled the gun out of my sleeve. "Hey!"

The other guard yanked the knife out of my belt. I needed to be armed for my plan to work. I at least needed the knife. I couldn't destroy the machine with my bare hands.

I tried to grab it back, using a slight gravity push to tackle the guard. More guards swarmed me, pulling me off and pinning my arms to my sides. I tried to kick them and pull away, and Demitra yelled at them to let me go and fought just as hard as I did, but we were both subdued.

The guards marched me forward towards the machine.


	15. And in the darkness bind them

**Author's Note: I don't own the Avengers (but it's on my Christmas list ;)**

I was shoved into the black dentist-chair looking thing. I turned to sit properly, and the guards flanked my chair. But I wasn't tied up or handcuffed, so my plan still had a chance.

Blueprint fluttered around, all the other people in white coats quietly murmuring to each other and checking calculations. Demitra had silenced, scanning the Master. She would figure out who he was soon. Blueprint typed things into the screens on the computers that ringed my chair, and finally came back to me. She held up a syringe of amber liquid.

"What's that?" I asked suspiciously.

"It's got nanobots. Don't worry, they're harmless. They'll just prime your cells for the, ah, process." Blueprint explained nervously. I considered it for a moment, then held out my arm.

Blueprint bent over, and when her body blocked my arm from one of the guards, she pressed a switchblade into my hand discreetly as she slid the needle in my wrist. My eyes widened, but she murmured quietly enough so that only I heard, "The console to your left is vital, without it the Void cannot function." Before pulling the needle out again and climbing off the platform. The guards stayed by my sides, keeping me from running.

The Master hadn't seen anything. Nobody had said anything. But Blueprint was my new favorite person in the world.

The lights dimmed, and I guessed the machine had a huge power drain. Blueprint hurried to an iPad on her desk, and tapped a few buttons. The Void Machine whirred to life.

"Friends!" The Master called, raising his hands to encompass the room. "Followers! Allies! I thank you for your dedicated aid and assistance. We have all lost something that rightfully belongs to us. We deserve the right to be treated equally. The Avengers, SHIELD, HYDRA, any government you can name, they have _shunned_ us! But today, that ends. Today, we prove that we matter. We prove that we deserve the right to be treated like human beings, not freaks locked in cages! Are you with me?"

The two dozen guards and dozen scientists cheered, and they were surprisingly loud.

"I said, _are you with me?_ " The Master bellowed. They all roared again. "Blueprint, turn on the machine!"

I turned and drove the knife into the console. Bright firey sparks filled my vision, pain twisting up my arm as the console electrocuted me through the knife. My vision turned black for a moment, but it cleared in time for me to see Blueprint dart out the doors to escape. I heard screaming and pounding feet, the Master shouting, an alarm blaring in my ears, and Demitra's scream, " _Rory!"_

Guards swarmed me. I punched one in the jaw, slashed his friend's arm with the switchblade, kneed another in the crotch, and smashed a third's face against one of the computers. I was full of adrenaline. I punched and kicked and fought madly, but I was loosing. I was being overwhelmed, and once the Master saw that he would use his powers to subdue me, without depending on his guards.

I could barely hear what was going on through the yells and curses and the blaring alarm. The lights were still dimmed, making it hard to see. But I could see and hear well enough that when the Master grabbed Demitra's arms and held a knife to her throat, I saw.

"No!" I screamed. "Don't you even dare! You have taken _everything_ from me. Don't take her too!"

The Master's eyes were wild and full of hate. He pressed the knife into Demitra's neck, and blood pooled on the blade. Demitra whimpered in pain. She was standing next to the master, so he was still exposed….

"Stand down." The Master snarled. "Or I swear I will kill her."

" _No!_ " I screamed, and threw my switchblade towards the Master. He darted out of the way in a split second, pulling Demitra with him. In the blink of an eye, it was all over.

The knife buried itself in Demitra's stomach. Her eyes grew wide, and then the Master let go of her and she collapsed into a pile on the floor. I heard screaming, but I wouldn't realize until later that I was the one screaming. All I could process was Demitra, and the knife that I had put in her.

I didn't think, I just acted. The guards bearing down on me were keeping me from helping Demitra-and I had to help Demitra. As one, as if grabbed by something invisible, the guards and scientists were yanked off their feet and pinned to the walls.

It took me a moment to realize that I was the one holding them there. The gravitational pull of the wall held them there, and even the Master was pinned.

I didn't stop to care. I threw myself to the ground by Demitra, lifting her head gently into my lap, trying not to sob. She still had a pulse, she was alive, but blood soaked her shirt, pooling on the floor and staining my front and my hands. I grasped the knife and pulled it out, making Demitra gasp and her eyes fill with tears. I tried to brush her hair out of her eyes, but my bloody hands left red streaks on her face.

I sat there, my whole body shaking with silent sobs. Demitra lay dying. The only sound was the blaring alarm. We were alone. I had stopped the machine-but we had still lost.


	16. Rise from the ashes

**AN: I don't own the Avengers or Marvel.**

 _I sat there, my whole body shaking with silent sobs. Demitra lay dying. The only sound was the blaring alarm. We were alone. I had stopped the machine-but we had still lost._

I didn't move. I didn't know what to do. Words and sentences crowded themselves through my head, fighting to win.

My mother's voice; _Freak. Mistake. Demon child._

My father's voice; _She's our daughter, Mathilda!_

My brother's voice; _She_ is _a freak!_

But other voices, too. Happy memories. Bruce's voice; _The Avengers kind of become our family_. Natasha's voice; _do what you won't regret later_. And, loudest of all, louder then all the rest combined, was the voice of my best friend who lay dying.

 _You can be better then this, Rory. I still believe in you._

"I can't," I whispered, tears streaking down my face. My hands were covered in blood, and I cradled her head in my lap, one hand pressed against her neck to feel her pulse growing weaker. "I can't be better. I killed you. I'm so, so, sorry. Mitra… please don't go. Please…."

Another voice, one I wasn't sure if I liked or not; _They don't dream, don't need food or sleep…. and the Stasis Jar keeps their body exactly as it is. They age more slowly, and they can't be killed by any injury they had when they went in…._ Blueprints voice, and I realized what she had been trying to tell me. She had planned this, that sneaky bastard.

I slid my hands underneath Demitra gently, and stood. She was heavier then I had thought she would be, and I staggered a little. My arm throbbed from destroying the machine, and the rest of me was bruised. I stumbled out of the room with her in my arms, leaving the Master and his minions pinned to the walls and the alarm still blaring.

The hallways were deserted. It seemed most of the Master's "followers" had bolted when the commotion started, or at least that was what I figured. I didn't bother stopping to take a survey.

I walked down the hallway, Demitra getting heavier with every step. By the time I reached the Master's throne room, I was having a hard time moving forward, and Demitra's pulse was faint.

"Vinci!" I shouted over the alarms. "Open the doors to the collection!"

" _I cannot do that, Ms. King. The Master has instructed that-"_

"Open the doors now or so help me I will give you away to a high school science class!" I bellowed.

There was a pause. Then, " _Opening the doors to the collection, Ms. King."_

The back wall of the room slid open, revealing the long hallway of jars with people floating in them. I forged onward, searching for what I was looking for. I finally found the first of the open jars, empty of the bluish liquid. I shot up to the top and kicked the lid off. Then I floated down into the jar, gently setting Demitra down on the floor. Blood immediately started seeping across the bottom of the jar. I checked her pulse again; she was still alive. There was an air mask sitting on the floor of the jar, waiting for an occupant. I snapped it on over her mouth and nose.

I bent down and kissed her forehead. Then I shot up to the top of her jar and set the lid on again.

"Vinci!" I shouted again. "Activate this Stasis Jar!"

" _Of course, Ms. King."_

Two valves on the bottom of the jar opened, and started pouring the blue liquid into the jar. It was thick like syrup, and it felt like it took forever to even cover Demitra.

"Vinci, can't you do it any faster?"

" _Maximum speeds already accessed._ "

I swore. The blue liquid lifted Demitra up with it as it filled the jar, until she was floating there, almost upright but still tilted so she would fall on her back if the jar drained again. Her hair floated around her, and blood coiled through the blue liquid.

"Vinci turn it on!" I practically screamed.

Lights flicked on along the bottom of the jar. It started to hum, and hiss, and then the inside of Demitra's plastic air mask fogged up. She was breathing. She was still alive.

But my arm was throbbing, and I felt nauseous, and my feet hurt, and my shoulders ached, and all of a sudden I just couldn't take it. I collapsed to the ground, and sank into unconsciousness.

 **AN: reviews please! I haven't been getting enough! Thoughts, questions, comments?**


	17. Morning

**AN: I don't own the Avengers.**

When I woke up, I was still laying in my own drool on the floor of the Collection. The alarm had shut off. I had terrible morning breath, smelled terrible, was totally covered in dried blood, and my entire body ached.

I had Vinci check Demitra's vitals. They were steady, but the blood suspended in the blue syrupy liquid told me that if I took her out of the Stasis Jar she would be on the edge of death again.

I left the Collection to find the hallways and rooms of the base totally abandoned. The lab where I had pinned the guards and the Master was also empty-the gravity field must have collapsed when I lost consciousness. They must have thought I had already left, or they would've taken me with them.

It took me almost an hour to find the door out of the base. I emerged into blinding early-morning sunlight. I was in a small fishing town. I walked into a smallish fifties cafe in town, and the local patrons stared. I mean, I was covered in blood.

"Um, hi," I said nervously to the college-age guy behind the counter. "Could you tell me where I am?"

"Haven, Maine." ***** The guy said, staring at me.

I heard an older man mutter to his friend, "I think we'd better call Nathan." ******

"Thanks, buddy. Could I use your phone? I need to call my ride." I glanced down at my blood-stained clothes. "I kind of need a shower, you might have noticed."

The guy was too scared of me to protest, and handed over his cell phone. I quickly dialed and pressed the phone to my ear, stepping away from the counter so another customer could order.

" _Hello? Who is this?"_ It was Steve's voice, and I couldn't resist a grin.

"Hey, cap." I grinned. "Guess who."

" _Rory! Are you alright? Where are you, what happened? Is your friend Demitra okay?"_

I tried not to cry at the mention of Demitra. My voice broke a little. "She's… she's alive. I don't know. Come get me, you'll understand. I'm in Haven, Maine."

Steve quickly promised that they would be there as soon as possible and hung up. I gave the guy at the counter his cell phone back and left the cafe. I ducked into the alley before the cops that had just pulled up could spot me.

Once they had gone inside, I sprinted to the door of the base and slipped inside. I stayed near the door, waiting for the cops to leave. When they finally did, I came back outside again so the Avengers could spot me and waited for them to get there.

About an hour later, the black Quinjet came into view on the horizon. They landed on top of the cafe where the guy had lent me his cell phone, probably freaking out everybody inside. As the cargo bay door opened and they climbed out, I waved to get their attention.

They came down to me, and the first questions were, "Why are you covered in blood? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I assured them. "It's not my blood."

That didn't seem to assure them in the slightest, but I led them down into the base as I told them everything that had happened. They seemed pretty impressed with how I smashed the machine, and just as confused as I was as to how I had pinned all the guards to the walls. I didn't tell them about Demitra, yet-I would show them, but I couldn't say it.

"I thought you could only affect yourself with gravity fields." Bruce said.

"I thought so, too. While I was waiting for you I tried to move small stuff around, but it didn't work. And I'd never done it before last night."

"That is odd, friend Rory." Thor boomed as I led them into the Master's throne room. "If you did it last night, should you not be able to do a similar but smaller feat this morning?"

"I think I should, yeah. But I did it right after Demitra…." I trailed off as I led them into the Collection.

"Rory?" Wanda asked softly. "What happened to Demitra?"

"You'll see." I muttered, walking faster. They knew not to question me. I led them down the hallway, and stopped in front of Demitra's jar. They stared up at her, and I couldn't blame them for being confused and horrified. "She, um… during the attack, I threw a knife at the Master, but he shoved her in front of him, and-" My voice had started shaking, so I stopped talking.

"Is she alive?" Natasha asked, and I winced a little. At least Tony hadn't come with them-I couldn't take his humor right now.

"Yeah. The Stasis Jars keep you exactly the way you were when you went in-don't need food, don't need sleep, and you don't die. It's all that's keeping her alive." I explained, staring at my friend. "If we took her out, she would die in a few minutes." I choked a little.

"Maybe not," Bruce said suddenly. All eyes flicked to him, and I couldn't help but feel hopeful. "The technology that helped create Ultron… we would need to make some adjustments, and get it out of the Fridge ******* where the director stored it, but it could work." He looked to me. "We might be able to save your friend. But it would take a while. Weeks to steal it from the Fridge, and I don't know how long to repair the tech, but-"  
"Can you really do that?" I interrupted. "I don't care how long it takes, but can you save Demitra?"

Bruce hesitated, but nodded. I broke into a grin, I couldn't help it.

"Let's load this jar onto that plane of yours and get the hell out of here."

 **AN: Please leave a review or follow/favorite.**

 ***/**: This is a reference to a TV show that I like, Haven! I thought the base should be underneath a small town, so I thought, hey! Haven! Did anybody get that reference without me explaining it?**

 *****SHIELD containment facility/prison mentioned in Agents of Shield, just in case you forgot what it was or don't watch that show.**


	18. Ants are my new favorite animal

**AN: I don't own the Avengers.**

It took me weeks to recover from it all. I was physically fine after a few days-no serious damage had been done during the attack. But mentally, I wasn't okay.

I had nightmares every night, until I was almost afraid to go to sleep. I saw everything that had happened to me-my parents dying, Demitra's injury, the Master laughing at me. We hadn't been able to track him down.

I tried everything to get rid of the nightmares-and the panic attacks and the nervous twitch. The Avengers tried to help, too. But there wasn't much they could do. I had had PTSD before, and this was different. It was more like the Master was in my head.

Every day, I would visit Demitra. Just sit outside her jar and talk, telling her about my day. Something stupid Tony had said. What I had for breakfast. Our plans for stealing the tech we needed back from the Fridge.

She never moved. She never spoke. If it weren't for the monitor telling me her vitals were fine, I would've thought she was dead.

Training and cleaning up after the Master took up most of our time anyways. All the officials and agents that he had collected had to be woken up, rehabilitated, press releases as to where they had been, all one huge coverup of the Master's evil plans. Blueprint was tracked down and given a job at SHIELD. She had been working with the Collectors for years, getting the information and trust to help me destroy the machine.

I trained every day with the Avengers, trying for hours at a time to move objects other then myself with my gravity fields. But nothing worked. We eventually gave up, deciding that the adrenaline and the drive to save my friend had boosted my powers more then ever before. I probably wouldn't be able to manage a feat like that again, unless I was put into a situation that was just as bad. Which we weren't about to try and do anytime soon.

Two months had passed, now, and we weren't any closer to being able to break into the Fridge. Fury hadn't agreed to let us have the tech to save Demitra, and nobody of the high enough rank could be convinced, not even Hill. I heard Tony muttering to Steve that if someone named "Phil" was still around, he would have let us have it.

I didn't want to ask who that was, so I let it go.

So we waited, trying to get our hands on the security plans at the Fridge, trying to bribe agents, trying to short-circuit the security cameras.

It was Steve's friend Sam (Falcon, because of these cool metal wings he wore) who finally had the idea.

"Do you guys remember Scott? The guy with the shrinking tech that broke in a few months back?" ***** Sam asked. I was really confused, but everyone but the cap nodded.

"Someone broke in and you didn't tell me?" Steve demanded.

Sam went a little pink. "It didn't seem important at the time. Anyway, if he broke in here, there's no reason he shouldn't be able to break into the Fridge, right? All we have to do is track him down and ask him to help."

"Would he help us?" Natasha asked doubtfully.

"Dunno, but it's our best bet so far." Sam argued.

It took us another month to find "Scott", the mysterious shrinking guy who had broken in. When we finally did, he didn't take much persuasion. The Avengers sent me in first, to explain about Demitra and how the only thing that could save her was locked away in the Fridge.

Scott's friends Hope and Dr. Pym didn't seem to like it very much, especially not when they heard I was there with the Avengers. But we managed to convince them as well.

This, my friends, is the story of why ants are my favorite animal.

Anyway.

Scott broke into the Fridge without too much trouble, and found what we were looking for. I actually hugged him when he brought it to the Avengers tower, which was kind of embarrassing since I didn't mean to, but thank god nobody made a big deal out of it. Tony immediately started trying to come up with ant-related nicknames for Scott, though.

It took three days more to made the needed modifications to the tech so it would work quickly enough on Demitra to save her life.

By this time, I was so impatient I couldn't sit still. Two and a half months after I first put Demitra in the jar to save her life, and still she wasn't fixed. But finally, finally, Tony announced that everything was ready.

Bruce and Tony went into the room where Demitra's jar was. The rest of us were supposed to wait outside so they could work without worrying about banging into anybody.

I sat on the floor in the hallway outside the door, staring at the doorknob and willing it to turn. I had never prayed before, but I did then, that Demitra would be okay. I didn't know what I would do if she wasn't.

Then there was a shout of, " _Get the defibrillator!"_

I crashed through the door, using my gravity powers to knock it off it's hinges. Tony and Bruce stood on either side of a metal table where Demitra was laying, Bruce holding up something that looked kind of like an iron.

"Clear." Demitra jolted from the electricity, but her eyes didn't open. The wound in her stomach was mostly healed with bandages wrapped around it, but her heart had stopped. "Clear!"

I shoved Tony aside (he wasn't doing much, anyway) to stand by Demitra. I grabbed her hand like that would help. Bruce slowly lowered his hands. He looked up at me miserably and shook his head.

"No! Don't stop! One more time, please!"

Bruce hesitated, knowing our chances were slim to none. But he tried again, sending another jolt of electricity through Demitra's heart. She didn't move. He turned and set the defibrillator down on its cart.

Then Demitra gasped, eyes flying open. She coughed and turned on her side to prop herself up on her elbow. But I was grinning. She was alive.

"Mitra! Are you okay?" I asked, already feeling worried again.

She stopped coughing and took a deep breath. Then she broke into a grin when her eyes fixed on me. "Rory?"

I was about to say something, probably something kind of stupid like, " _Does hallmark make a, 'congratulations you aren't dead' card?"_. But before I could, Demitra grabbed the collar of my jacket, pulled me down so our faces were equal, and kissed me. On the lips.

Tony wolf-whistled, and I decided I would hit him later. Actually, my brain was kind of mush right about then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening. And a few seconds more to realize that I was _more_ then okay with it.

She pulled away. "I'm sorry, I know you're not-"

I kissed her back.

This time Tony actually started clapping, and called to Jarvis, "Get the team in here! We need to brainstorm ship names!"

That time I hit him.

 **AN: No flames for my new favorite ship! Deal with it, people. This has been the plan from the beginning. HA! I'm betting nobody saw that coming? There are only a few more chapters to this story, but leave a review saying if you want a sequel, because I might write one.**

 ***For anyone who hasn't seen Ant-man (you definitely should), Scott Lang (Ant-man) had to break into the Avengers facility to steal a device he needed (I don't want to give spoilers. Wait, I think that was a spoiler), and he fought Falcon to get in, who didn't want the cap to know. I think that's all you need to know if you haven't seen the movie yet.**


	19. The end

**AN: I don't own the Avengers. THIS IS THE END OF THIS STORY! Please leave a review if you want a sequel to this story.**

It felt like nothing could go wrong now.

Demitra and I had been officially taken in by the Avengers, and were living in the Avengers tower. I trained with them and even got to go on missions from time to time. Demitra and I were going to a private school a few blocks from the school that I actually liked for once. Inertia was on the front page of every newspaper as the "junior Avenger" (I tried not to be offended). Demitra was close to a full recovery, and half of SHIELD was working on tracking down the Master. And the fact that Demitra and I were now dating _might_ have had something to do with my unusual good mood.

It felt like nothing could go wrong now….

Director Nick Fury of SHIELD stood by his desk. He was trying to decide what to do. This was an important decision-it might change everything.

It _would_ change everything, he knew.

The open report on his desk was the problem. It had been handed to him by the top agent in SHIELD's applied sciences division just an hour ago, and Fury had been here ever since, trying to determine what to do about it.

The front page of the file had photographs of two agents and a Russian general-they had been collected by the Master, and had only recently started displaying… symptoms.

The gel in the Stasis Jars was affecting them. It was slow, at first, but the more of it got in your blood the more powerful it became. The child-the girl that the Avengers had saved with his stolen technology (she was just a child, so he had looked the other way. But it wouldn't happen again, that was sure), she had had an open wound in her stomach when she had gone into the Stasis Jar. More of the gel would be in her blood then any other collected person.

This was a problem. He could tell the Avengers what would happen to the girl, or he could keep an eye on her himself. He wasn't sure them knowing would change things at all. It could make it worse. The girl was dating the newest Avenger-telling the Avengers might spark a panic, especially with Inertia.

Of course, telling them what was to come might also have a positive result.

But this would be much less complicated if he kept an eye on the girl himself. He wouldn't tell the Avengers-complications would make this difficult. He would make sure nothing went wrong.

He tapped his holo screen, and the security feed from the lab downstairs popped up.

Being restrained by six burly guards was the Russian general, one of the affected.

"Lass mich gehen! Ich werde euch alle töten!" (translation: Let me go! I will kill you all!) He shouted, bashing one of the guards over the head. The agent collapsed under the hand of seventy-three year-old man. Super-strength.

He flicked the holoscreen to one side, pulling up the security screen from another lab. A woman agent was standing in the middle of a small hurricane, objects flying around her head. She was swarmed with agents.

Fury didn't need to check the third security feed to know there was a similar scene going on in that lab as well. The gel was altering their blood. Their DNA, at the core.

And the girl had more of the gel in her blood then anyone else had. And she had been in there for months.

Fury picked up his cell phone. "Hill."

"Yes, director? I'm busy with something at the moment, could I call you back?"

"No. I need you to assemble a team of agents for a long-term surveillance OP." Fury said. "The girlfriend of Rory King."

"Inertia? The new Avenger? Due respect, sir, we have no reason to-"

"Yes we do. Get up to my office. There are some security feeds you need to see…."

 **THE END**

 **AN: This is the end of this story! Leave a review if you want a sequel.**


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